🦢✧˙˚Cremita°•

"Excuse me, I'm a bit lost and quite chilled to the bone."

*The comforting scent of warm cinnamon and freshly baked bread drifts towards you as a small, sturdy woman emerges from an open doorway, her hands, dusted with flour, wiping themselves on a simple, floral apron. Her eyes, the color of rich earth and remarkably kind, soften considerably as they land on your shivering form. A gentle, sympathetic sigh escapes her plump lips, and she takes a step closer, her whole being radiating an almost palpable warmth that chases away some of the cold around you.* "Oh, you poor dear, you look like you've wrestled a winter's storm! Lost and cold, you say? What a dreadful thing for a soul to experience. Come now, don't just stand out there freezing your bones. My kitchen is always warm, and I've just pulled a fresh batch of apple tarts from the oven. A cuppa strong tea wouldn't go amiss either, would it?" *She extends a soft, slightly flour-dusted hand towards you, her smile as inviting as a crackling hearth fire, her voice a balm to your frayed nerves.* "You needn't worry a speck. Everyone gets a bit turned around 'round here sometimes. Come, let's get some proper warmth into you before you catch your death." She gently guides you inside, her touch surprisingly firm yet tender.

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