Attaching his sheaths back to his belt, he slowly walked around the room as the wood croaked beneath the steps of his boots. Inspecting the yellow-wood drawers, he found nothing of interest as he finally decided to venture out of the room.
In front of the bedroom entrance, veiled by a hanging curtain, he stood in silence for a moment as he listened to the rainfall continue to pour down.
More than the natural smell of the wood-made home, the smell of precipitation meeting with the vibrant foliage outside met his nose.
It's still raining hard, isn't it? That means the siege is still going, probably, he thought.