It was quiet, so blessedly quiet, so much so had it been in any other scenario, it would have been unnerving. Logically, he knew he really should feel unnerved all the same, but… he never did. He found the quietude calming, the isolation of what was effectively ‘his’ woods comforting. It let him think, or not to, as he wished; the task of going out and collecting winter fuel, necessary or otherwise, clearing his mind wonderfully. Some nights he’d often just forget and let go of everything entirely, focusing on the task at hand. It was comforting.