You gently shut the ajar door and soaked up the welcoming atmosphere. The interior of the cabin was almost a charming as the exterior. The abundance of space was cozily illuminated by hand molded candles. The faint light tinted the living room a stunning blend of orange and gold. Furs were sewn together to form the thick, soft and reliable material that was the carpet. Hand-crafted furniture adorned the living room and encircled an ornate coffee table.

The cabin also harbored a familiar sense in it's many walls. Then it clicked. You've been here before. This was the house you had woken up in only hours before.

The two strangers lead you down a hall along the north wall and guided you to a spacious side room. It was a kitchen. A man loomed over the stove and hummed a faint tune. He swirled an aromatic stew with his ladle, wafting a potent perfume of delicious flavors. His back was turned to you in a manner which would not warn him of his unexpected "guest."

The spiky haired man was naturally the first to disrupt the quiet serenity.

"Hey, Lukas! We're back from fishing! Want to see what we caught?!"

"It better not be another random pair of pants." Lukas sighed and began to turn towards you.

You examined those dull lavender eyes with immense joy. It was definitely Lukas.

"Who is this? What did you do to this poor girl, Dane?" He asked in his regular monotone drone.

"Oh, yeah! We never introduced ourselves!" The spiky haired man noted enthusiastically. "Hej! My name's Mathias, although Lukas loves to call me dumb ass!"

"Shut it, dumb ass. I'm Lukas."

The final man to introduce himself was the tall stoic one.

"...Berwald..." The stoic man introduced himself briefly before retreating to the upstairs landing.

I guess it's my turn.

"Hello, I'm (Y/n)"

"Nice to meet you, (Y/n)" Lukas mumbled indistinctly, returning to his task of cooking.

Berwald materialized from no where and thrusted a set of dry clothes into your arms.
He pointed upstairs on the landing and at a door you knew well. Your guest room.

"...Change..."

You placed a shaky foot on the first step. Then the next. You surmounted over each subsequent step gracefully, despite your water logged clothes' arbitrary intent to anchor you down to the smooth floor. You glided your slender fingers over the laminated railing.

You floated over the landing with the light feathery feeling of déjà vu holding you aloft. You smiled at the three familiar doors, each still fresh in your memory. You could still feel the contour of the cool handle and your fingers venturing over each miniature  mountain and valley indented in the the solid planks.

At the end of your daydreaming, you found yourself faced with that oh-so-infamous door. You cautiously rotated the polished wood and stepped through the threshold. It was just the way as you had left it. Same light brown walls, same sleek black carpet, same beams of morning light.

Shutting the solid door, you tossed the loaned clothes onto the covers. You peeled off your saturated clothing and placed them on a nightstand adjacent to your bed. You could dry them later.

You lifted one of the garments from off the bed and held it up to the light to view. With weary eyes you inspected the stiff light green tunic before you. It was definitely not your first choice of clothing, but they didn't sell jeans around this time. Without much more examination, you slipped on the outfit.

At the end of it all, you found yourself adorned with a light green tunic, black moccasins, and rough brown pants that were barely bound to you with a dark leather belt. They were a loose fit, but they would do the trick.

The pure wool scraped against your skin while you descended the stairs, causing a irritating itch to attack you.

The three men were waiting for you at the bottom of the staircase. Their eyes widened with shining anticipation as they heard your footsteps resound off each step.

You reached the bottom and halted, quizzically looking at each man. They continued to stare back.

"Wow, she wears your clothes better than you do, Lukas! Of course my boots didn't hurt either." Mathias commented

"She's lucky you have girly shoes, Dane." Lukas replied.

"They're imported!"

"From where?"

"Norway!"

Sweden's ever stoic features allowed a barely-visible smile to creep through his dark aura.

The two men were eager to exchange blows. Mathias maintained a sly smirk while Lukas' eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Umm... Guys?" Your voice fractured the tension laden atmosphere.

The two feuding men quickly calmed themselves and hurled glares at each other, before reluctantly braking off their conflict to face you. Lukas huffed loudly and rushed into the kitchen like a devastating storm.

You directed your judging eyes towards Mathias.

"He'll be fine."

As if on cue, Lukas hurried from the kitchen, cradling an iron pot in his arms. The aromatic steam billowed from the pot and surround you with a potent and delicious scent. You found yourself chasing after the irresistible fragrance.

The trail ended at a rustic dining room. There the pot of soup rested on a long and narrow carved table. A fire pit was smoking in the back of the room and venting out of a wooden screen in the ceiling.

You stepped over to one of the large spruce chairs and plopped down in it. Berwald and Mathias subsequently  entered and sat in their own seats. Both had chosen to sit on either side of you. Lukas set a warm bowl before of you. It's delicious contents made your currently empty stomach rumble. Lukas distributed the rest of the meal to the others and situated himself across from you.

You raised the spoon to your lips and were nearly about to sip it, before a whine cut through the air. You placed the spoon back in the dish and searched for the source of the complaining.

"Oh come on, Lukas! I know you're mad, but this is just cruel!" You caught a sample of Mathias' whining.

You giggled at Mathias' failed attempts to slurp his soup with the fork Lukas had given him. You laughed a bit more and began to drink your soup rapidly. You had no idea of how long it had been since your last meal. Within five minutes you had finished the bowl. Mathias had given up on his fork and resorted to gulping the soup directly from the dish.

You struck up a conversation with the men. The rest of the night was spent swapping stories and laughing the hours away.

With your hunger satiated and the day's events wearing on you, your eyelids began to droop without your consent.

"I think I'm going to get some sleep. Thank you for the meal. It was amazing."

The three men wished you good night and returned to their ongoing conversations. 

You slumped off your chair and hauled yourself up the stairs. The weight of exhaustion made the brief trip much more extensive than before. You slipped back into the bed where all of this had started. You knew where this insane adventure had begun. You only had one real question buzzing in the back of your mind.

Where would it go from here?

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New chapter!~

Thank you for reading this far into my book! You must be a real trooper. ;3

Anyway, I wanted to mention one brief tip.

I know I used sleep a lot to end my chapters. But, it's not just there for the heck of it. Sleep is actually a very useful tool for writing. It can be used to transition to a new idea or as a convenient time skip that won't break the flow of the story.

Think of sleep as reality's version of a time skip. :D