The Return
With the sound of scraping wood, Rosie felt the old cabin door resist her as she pushed it open with a creek. It had been too long, years in fact since she had been her and it was evident. Cobwebs and dust covered most of the surfaces of the tiny place. She let her bag fall from her shoulder with a thud kicking up a cloud of dust causing her to briefly cough. Jericho, her beloved Tibetan Mastiff whimpered behind her. She instinctively reached back and gave his giant head some scratches.
"It's okay, we'll clean it up in now time, you'll see," she reassured the dog. "It's got all the comforts we need, kitchen, plumping, heating and cooling, water, you'll see."
A disapproving yowel resonanted from around her feet. Rosie bent down and ran her fingers along the black cat's back. "Oh stop it Salem, be a good girl now, I swear once everything is cleaned and aired out you'll love it."
Though as she stood up and took a good assessment of her situation she started doubting her words. Rosie took a deep sigh, pulled back her dark hair and sighed. "Okay, kitchen first so we can stock our supplies, then everything else." Salem let out what Rosie would have swore was a doubtful meow as she jumped up on the window still, streched and found a spot in a sunbeamand laid down, while Jericho lumbered his way to a bare corner, turned around a couple of times and settle comfortably on the floor. "Traitors," Rosie mumbled as she began her work on the kitchen.
