The Atmosphere
The early morning sun's radiation were struggling through the thick fog to approach the snow dusted village of Ahwood, slumbered beside the frozen river, it's icy surface glinting like polished silver in the ple morning light. The snow covered trees along the riverbank stood vigilant like watchmen, their branches scored sharply against the pale blue sky, their limbs heavy with the weight of snow. The lanterns hung down from lamp hooks outside from the houses and cottages casted a dim light in the fog.
The village's rustic cottages and houses with their thatched roofs and smoke blackened chimneys, puffed gentle plumes of smoke into the crisp air, carrying scent of wood smoke and baking bread from cast-iron ranges, where Mrs Robert's renowned seed cakes were no doubt being prepared to be sold in the market.
intriguing plot