My little house is cozy on these cold nights. The walls are thick wattle and daub, darkened by woodsmoke inside and weather outside. The roof is a dense thatch of reeds with low eaves to keep off rain and snow. There is a single doorway, closed by a rug in summer and a wooden door in winter, and a hole in the roof for the fire to smoke through. The floor is earth, packed and trodden to a hard, smooth surface, which I cover in rushes on one side beneath my bed of wood pallet and wool sack, covered in sheepskins. I keep a small fire in the center of the space, ringed by stones. I like to burn sweet wood or herbs to fill the room with soothing scents, and tonight an apple bough crackles in front of me, while sprigs of thyme singe slowly above it. I have a wooden stool, two padded bolsters, and a simple rug upon which to sit or recline. Above my fire stands a slender spit so that I might roast fowl or a piece of deer meat, or suspend a pot for stew, or to simmer my infusions. A roughly hewn chest to one side keeps my precious items clean and dry: my ceremonial robes, my braids, my blood letting blades, my bones for telling, my ground spices and preserved tinctures. Nearby sit two stout jars, one empty, one filled with honey, and a shallow bowl in case I have need of warm water to bathe wounds or otherwise offer treatments. All else I hang upon the walls: my wolf headdress, my staff, my drum, my axe, my hazel basket, an animal skin for water. My boots stand by the door—one soft leather pair, another sturdier against the cold. Next to them on a high peg I keep my hooded cloak of fine, dark red wool, a gift from the prince to show the gratitude of the community after a foretelling saved them from the worst of a storm. Tonight, alone and at my ease, I wear a plain woolen tunic, tied loosely at the waist with a broad twist of hide, a string of painted clay beads, and a bracelet of polished ram’s horn. When I am alone I leave my hair to hang free. I do not adorn my body greatly unless I am presenting my visions as shaman. When I am at rest, I am content to let simple jewelry and the ancient patterns worked onto my skin be my only decoration.