"Perfect," Ned says. He's got a little more wood for burning set aside, but not very much. He'll just have to make the most of the fire, while it is here.

So he sits down on the rug, right there in front of the fire, staying close so he can benefit from the heat in addition to the ever-increasing light that it is putting out. He pulls his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them, locking his fingers together and propping his chin on one knee. There's something hypnotic and soothing about watching the flame as it begins to curl its way along the sides of the wood, about hearing the occasional crackle it produces.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" he murmurs, absent-mindedly, half to himself.