It had been a year ago. A full year since her home had burned down with her inside of it.

She would never forget.

Gloved hands were tucked away in her cloak?s pockets as she simply looked across the clearing to where her home had once been. She did not go to stand on the land, but simply observed from her position against a tree. A slight breeze ruffled the bottom of her cloak and the cold chill swept over her face, and yet her eyes remained glazed over.

Her mind was so far into the horrific event that she could smell the lingering scent of smoke. She needed no cues or reminders to pull up the image of waking in a state of panic. The scar on her back from the knife was almost completely gone now, but she could remember the pain and the difficulty of movement for several weeks afterward. Other, more pleasant memories came to mind when it came to putting on her cloak with the stitches, but for now they were gently pushed aside.

Storm had acquired twisted, ugly burns and temporarily could not walk on her own. Even the thought had her arms coming in closer to her, remembering all the times she had fallen from trying to walk on her uneven feet. Through the encouragement of a few close friends and her own desire to continue, she overcame the obstacles.

Now, she was married to the person that had given her the most support, and carried life inside of her. It was still such a shock to her mind that she would place her hand on her abdomen to see if it was still flat. Her lips curled at the corners as she thought ahead to the near future. Despite the cruel and horrendous act, she knew that her life had blossomed ever since.

With a lingering smile on her lips, she turned and started back for Zephry Cottage in a much better spirits.