As a blizzard approaches, two strangers emerge from the fog enveloping the forest. From the windows of their houses, the neighbors wonder: Who is outside? What do they want? Desperate for shelter, the strangers turn to the locals, hopeful someone will take them in. “The wind is cold. In exchange for some tea, could we warm ourselves by your fire?” Will anyone help?
In the midst of a fearsome blizzard, a weary traveler seeks refuge from the cold “Good evening, Father, I’m so glad I found you. Would you, by any chance, have a room where I could spend the night?” “Oh,” said the old man. “I’m not the father of the house, You’ll have to ask my father. He’s around back, in the kitchen.” And so the travler is sent on a journey within his journey, arriving at a surprising destination.
Loving the tales of her ancestors, who built a castle in the remote French mountains, Anise listens while her grandfather describes how their relatives were mistaken for dancing stones when seen by distant herdsmen.