"Comfort takes many forms, many shapes and many faces."
"You have discovered my humble shack," remarked the one-eyed rodent, tapping his paw against the floor from his seat at the table. Eve looked around passively - humble was right, it wasn't a very big place and seemed void of any of the grand luxuries they had once associated with cult leaders. All the same, the hut seemed... warm, cast in a homely glow. It reminded them vaguely of the tiny, stolen hut they'd inhabited for a few months - it hadn't been much but had been theirs and the sheep had been rather devastated to lose it. They said none of this to Ratau however, merely offering a kindly bow as the ex-crown bearer continued to speak. "Be careful that you don't make the same mistakes that I did or you'll end up in a place just like this."
Is it the hut you refer to? Eve signed. Because this seems like quite a warm place to be.
"Nonsense, there is no chatter. No gold, soft linen sheets or towering pillars."
But there is a warm fire, a game, delicious berries and a wondrous view. There are many worse things to be than a failure - and many worse places to live than a little lonely hut.
The two wielders of the Red Crown, former and present exchanged a little look before Ratau offered a slight smile.
"Perhaps you are right," he says, then gestures to a free seat at the table. "Now, perhaps a game of Knucklebones?"
Eve took the invitation for what it was, though offered him an inquisitive look.
"Ohoho, you've never heard of it?" he asked a bit of mischief creeping into his tone. "Why it's simple - step up to the table and I'll show you."
