The coal stove burned fiercely, the heat and humid cold air at the window offset each other, condensing a layer of fog on the windowpane.
Sitting in front of the window, Hilov's fingers holding the quill were frozen cold.
Ink flowed from the tip of the pen onto the hemp paper, spreading into a large blot, but she seemed not to see it, still staring distractedly at the wall.
It wasn't until a "crack" sound from the burning kindling in the coal stove shattered the moment, did Hilov return from her trance.
Looking down at the ink stains on the paper, Hilov showed no expression, as she did not comprehend what an expression was.
Her mother never showed expressions, and neither did the puppets or Ah Fu, who were her family and friends.
It was not until she met Horn and those unexpected guests that she realized humans had so many facial expressions to convey emotions.
Tossing the waste paper aside, Hilov ordered Ah Fu to shovel a scoop of peat into the coal stove.
