night dissolves into this final frame

The mansion tended to offer so many trinkets itself, Lethalia tended to pack light to come exploring. If the other accepted offerings of fruit and nuts had been enough, the pink apple she procured from the depths of her bag also ought to be good enough. Perhaps a bit late to make an offering to the shrine now, but she could attempt to make reparations. It seemed more important to be keeping an eye out for these altars - apparently it was considered a harsh transgression to bypass one. She'd 'donated' to some in the past, but it didn't seem to have much of a positive effect on those ventures.

At the appearance of treats, Mavelle's nose was right there soon as Leth turned back from placing her offering down. "Yeh, okay, gimme a sec'," the satyr mumbled, finding herself fumbling with her backpack more than she would have expected.

Lethalia unbuckled Mav's bridle - eventually, with her numbed finger handicap - and slung it over her own shoulder, hurriedly handing the mare off a pink apple for her efforts. Leth kept her fingers tangled in a fluffy chunk of mane, though there was quite little worry about the equi running off at all. (If she really wanted to, it seemed she had a new trick to slip out from beneath her owner.) Mostly, the satyr couldn't be sure she'd remain standing if she let go, the cold had permeated her bones so deeply.

Well. With a shiver, she figured one of the few places they could get was inside the mansion itself. Leth didn't look forward to it, but she also didn't care to test what the long ride home would do to her while drenched. Did the mansion do that while she was spaced out? How did she get this damp? There was no way, without the mansion's interference. This was the first time it tried playing a deathly game with her; she was not terribly pleased.

Savory scents had wafted from the mansion whenever they were close to it; while Lethalia had been hoping to open the door upon the kitchen, but ended up in a large dining hall instead. Inhaling deeply of the delicious aroma that fate didn't want them to attain, Leth figured the place looked safe enough for the time being.

Setting hoof into the room, Lethalia perked and turned around upon noticing no hoofsteps behind her. Mavelle looked pensive at her with her head in the door, huge tail flicking as if annoyed at a fly. If only she could do it to her owner instead, she might've taken the opportunity. "C'mon, Mav," Lethalia beckoned sweetly, holding her palm out to the mare. She didn't really have time to do this, but it would only take longer in the end if she tried rushing it. "I know it's diff'rent, girlie. S'okay, y'can come in."

"Whatta brave girl!" Lethalia crowed her praise, hands on the mare to hep calm her nerves. "Y'still alive, see?" Like usual, the jigging around stopped and Mavelle blew a big sigh when her hooves came to settle and the darkness of indoors hadn't eaten her alive. "I'm impressed," the satyr deadpanned, passing the mare another apple in hopes of placating her for long enough.

Finally, the chance to look around. The fact that Mavelle settled right down crunching her treat should be teastament to the place being safe enough, but the dark shadows against the flickering window candles weren't exactly reassuring. It was warmer in here, but if the hearth had been aglow with festive celebration, it had been some time ago now. Mugs frothing and full to the brim of something not quite coffee and not quite hot chocolate were probably more tempting when they were warm.

Mavelle was watching her with wide eyes, but her head hung low and relaxed and already cocked a hip to rest a hoof on the ground. Leth threw out praise to the mare for how good and brave she was - the content of her words didn't matter, but the impulse behind them did. Mav seemed to like doing good For now the satyr would take all of the good signs she could get, setting about finding the firewood in this darkened corner.

Kindling in a metal bucket off to the side, perfect. A fistful of the sticks and lint was grabbed and mounded up carefully atop the already burning embers, smoking something horrible before flame viciously took it's place. The next small logs placed atop it were consumed in short order. The satyr let out a winning 'whoop' and looked over her shoulder to ensure her mount hadn't rocketed off during the commotion. Satisfied she still had a way back home, she set to peeling off a few layers of drenched clothing to attempt to dry them.

As if the house was offering to help you get warm, you suddenly notice a beautiful scarf hanging on the wall! And nearby are a few other items, including a cluster of bells.

And, if you wanted to take something with you... There's this fireplace that looks oddly movable.