The shabby looking rider had her hood pulled down deeply into her face to cover it from the relentless rain that seemed to have followed her for the last week. Ahead was a small path leading through the misty meadows up to the edge of the forest. And right there, barely visible were to small dots of light. The closer the rider got, the clearer the silhouette of the little cottage was. And when the horse finally stopped right in front of it, the door got violently torn open and the man in the door frame could only whisper. „You‘re alive!“ Before she dropped of the horse onto the soggy gras with a loud thud.