Wandering Stranger

A wanderer adjusted his position against the tree. When a snowflake landed on his outstretched hand, he shook it free, climbing to his feet. The man dragged his hair from his face as he pulled his spare cloak from his pack. Without missing a beat, he wrapped it around his shoulders. He clutched his bag under the covering as he strode toward the road. As he neared it, he checked both sides of the path before easing out from the underbrush.

As the snow clung to him, the man tugged the outer garment tighter about his neck and forced himself through the growing mounds. After walking for what felt like an eternity, the wanderer noticed a structure hugging the horizon, and his steps quickened. When he reached the building, his trembling hand brushed its rough stone.

A grin spread as his fingers traced the chiseled rock. He cocked his head, and his smile widened when he scanned the surrounding buildings. He ignored the blacksmith and the numerous merchant establishments. When his eyes landed upon the inn, he dashed toward its entrance and yanked in vain. With a grimace, the wanderer slammed his fist against the sturdy wood. “Is anyone there!”

The entrance groaned, revealing an intense gaze through the opening. “There aren’t any rooms available. You must look elsewhere.”

“Please,” the wanderer cried as he wedged his foot into the opening. “No one could survive this snowstorm.”

“I cannot allow you to enter,” the innkeeper replied.

The man pulled a stone from his pack, flashing the brilliant green gem to the owner. “I can pay.”

The innkeeper shook his head as he shoved the door. “Money isn’t the problem. This storm comes every year, and my storeroom isn’t endless. I can’t provide for you without harming my existing patrons, considering that jewel won’t fill a single belly...