+Author's note

Congradulations on being the first one to comment ElizCloud- here's your request!
Turn the song on for maximum effect!

There is a little cottage down the village.

It has a tin roof with battered windows.

No one has been there for quite a while.

Until now.

Misha walked down the path back home with supplies and other groceries for the strong winter.

He looked up to find the tin roofed house had it's lights on, with smoke billowing from the chimmney.

Suprised, he stopped in his tracks despite his heavy bags to look up at the brightened windows, the lights that poured from the little cottage all thought was abandoned.

Had it's original master returned? Or was it occupied by someone new? Who came to this rural village, and why?

Shaking his head, Misha quickly diminished his thoughts and headed in. Such information was not needed. There was much to do and little time for distractions.

+++

"Have you seen cottage Misha?"

His mother asked as she peeled the potatoes.

"да. Is strange to see one live in it after it be empty so long"

"Stranger yet, it is a Женщина who lives there"

Misha frowned

"A Женщина? Alone in such a house?

His mother shrugged and kept peeling the potatoes, throwing the skin into a metal bowl.

"Strange is it not? A woman, of all things. That house is more fitting for a ghoul or a monster"

+++

Heavy cut the wood from the block he used, sending the firewood flying from his axe.

He huffed in the cold winter air. The mist rising from his breath gave him a most feral look, his occassional grunts and contentrated look made him closely resemble the wilds.

With another swing, he sent the wood flying.

This time it went flying too far, towards his house. In a flurry, Misha went towards his house and looked up.

The woman from the conversation last night walked down the snowy ground.

The village was so rural it had no paths, forcing the girl to trudge through the snow.

But that was hardly what surprised him.

He looked up from the firewood to take a better look at the woman.

Unkept (y/n) colored hair hung like a tangled mess, dark bags hung under her eyes like a blur of charcoal. Her skin was pale from exhaustion and her clothes were thin, worn and tattered.

She fought her way through the snow, black thin stockings were the only thing to keep her from the cold. And the snow boots she wore had holes in them.

Clutching her shawl around herself tightly, her gaze was fixated ahead for some unknown goal. Her tired eyes were shaking, and the snowy landscape reflected through her (e/c) orbs.

Heavy watched her trudge by, unable to find himself or seem to think as he saw the strange woman walk by.

+++

Again he saw the woman trudge by, but it was at the foot of the mountains.

As Misha held the stack of firewood on his back, he climbed down the snowy ground, the winter landscape full of forests and snow, yet deprived of life and sound.

He looked up, and saw the cottage again. It sat at the foot of the mountains, standing alone.

The girl sat in front of the cottage on a stool. Shivering and cold, staring vaguely out into the distance with her thin shawl draped over her weakly.

+++

It has been a month since the girl came. And everyday she seemed to grow weaker.

Her skin was a pale dusty color, the bags under her eyes dark and heavy, and her once wide eyes were now nothing but bleary (e/c) orbs.

Misha's sister gave a small click of her tongue as she looked out the window.

"Leetle Малышка looks weak. Will she last this winter?"

+++

It was through the windows he saw her this time. He bent over the sink to see the girl holding a tattered bag hung over her shoulder, walking towards the cottage.

The thin woolen mittens she wore were pathetic and wasted. Her fingers poked out through the holes, red and raw from the unforgiving winds of the north.

Her hands shook as she tried to find the keys from her pockets. Finding them, she struggled to keep her hands steady to the lock.

Misha found himself wanting to replace the gloves she wore.

+++

Holding the new pair of gloves, Misha found himself staring at the cottage down below from his kitchen.

He waited for the girl to come back from where ever she came from.

She seemed to be rather late today.

+++

It has been a few days since the girl had been seen, but it was no surprise to Misha.
In this rural village, it was not strange to be absent for days on an errand.

But it was a little unsettling for the little girl to be gone for so long.

She didn't really seem like she could battle the weather.

Let alone keep herself.

And stranger yet, his own sisters seemed to be late as well.

Should he go out looking for them? Or would he recieve another scolding for worrying too much?

And as if to answer his questions, his sisters Yana and Bronislava came in, putting down shovels covered in snow and dirt as they stamped the snow off their feet.

Heavy came to the doorway.

"Yana! Bronislava. Is late, where have you two gone?"

Bronislava unraveled the snowy scarf around her neck.

"Brother, we come from cottage down our house, to check on leetle girl"

Yana gathered the shovels and put it away.

"We found her dead. Cold as ice."

+++

Yana, Bronislava and Zhanna looked down into the grave they had just dug up. The strange girl from the cottage was lying dead in the pit.

"I don't understand Misha"

Said Zhanna.

Bronislava gave a tired sigh and threw in some gloves.

"да. But he said it was important. So we do"

Yana complained.

"But why make us do it? Also how strange he wants us to put gloves in a grave. The dead need no clothes"

Bronislava frowned.

"I do not know Мои сестры. He kept muttering something... something 'his fault'... 'does not deserve to see'.. he said he was too late"

Yana shrugged.

"You know brother. He is full of mystery. Never know what go in head of his"

The sisters agreed and looked down in the grave.

And the little girl from the cottage, pale blue was frozen solid six feet under, with a pair of warm gloves thrown unto her with utter carelessness.