A few tiny gusts of cold wind blew in through the gaps in the doorframe. Everypony shivered, some more than others. “There’s a fireplace over there,” said Catskill unprompted, pointing. “It should still be good. This place…” She looked up at the remains of the mill. “Well, the stone parts were built to last. Stone doesn’t fall apart like wood.” She was babbling, desperate to fill the silence. Anything would do, including making herself look like a complete fool. “The wood should still be burnable, at least.”