i shouldn't be allowed to make graphics

Rose Red

A heavy scrape and bang rattles the door on it’s hinges. Darcy jumps and the thimble falls from her finger to roll across the rough hewn pine floor. “It is late to have a visitor,” Jane says.

“Perhaps it’s the Odinson boy come to court you, dearest Jane,” she says with a grin.

“Nonsense,” Jane says pressing her hands to her pink cheeks. “It too late to travel from town.”

It is not the elder Odinson boy at the door. It is not a boy at all. A bear stands at the door. It’s great head, shaggy brown fur covered in snow fills the doorframe. “Please,” the bear says.