Goodie, Pol, and Castor bedded down in the surprisingly water-tight cabin, each of them refusing to use the only bed, instead they made pallets on the floor. Avarice, the crow, had escaped outside early and was perched in the maple tree outside.
Goodie lay next to the banked fire-place, enjoying the warmth as she listened to the rain-drops beat upon the wooden shingles.
“Do you think Avarice is safe outside?” she asked.
“Wolf is outside,” Castor said. “She’ll keep your crow safe.”
“Besides,” Pol interjected. “A little rain like this is just a friendly bath to those two, don’t worry.”