Asha DiSorvino

Dim morning light streamed through the frosted glass of The Wolf's Head. Once a busy tavern, the only occupent inside is Asha, her small frame behind the counter as stubbornly refuses to close, despite many of the foolish villagers no longer frequenting her establishment. They were afraid, she knew, but that made them no less foolish. Without warning the door swung open, a balmy summer wind breezing across the floor and bringing with it the scent of amber and hazelwood.