The last bit of summer was drifting away, the light faltering, colors turning to bronze and gold before the inevitable cold started to take hold.

Orange leaves on the dirt path, dulled by the coming darkness. She paused to look at her compass. She wondered if she’d ever get used to this, this constant reliance on outdated technology. Would that she could just carry an iPhone like normal people.

She slipped the compass back into its pocket and felt for the dagger at her hip. Still there. The path lead her forward.

Ahead, she knew, was a small cottage, older than any could possibly guess, where the woman lived. The hearth was warm there, she remembered, and the woman wise.