Vena waded through the thick snow, the frozen water crunching underneath her boots. Her thin coat was wrapped tightly around her shivering frame as she fought the cold of winter. What a horrible day it was. Luckily for her, she had almost reached her little hut. It had once belonged to her grandfather who had built it himself. It was the hut she was raised in, and since her grandfather had passed away, same as her parents, she was now the only one living in there.
Stumbling through the snow, she finally reached her little wooden shelter, opening her screeching door and stepping into the warmth. Well, it was still cold but compared to the chilly wind outside this was much better. She sighed in relief and slid her bagpack off her shoulders and emptied its content on the table. Pieces of wooden branches, a couple of apples and a bit of dried fish.
Removing her jacket and pulling her boots off her bare feet, she sat down in front of the hearth and started making a fire.
Background: Both her parents died when she was younger but luckily her grandfather raised her until he too passed away. That was when she was about the age of 14 and since neither the king nor anybody else cared about her she was left to lie on the street and survive by stealing.