A windowless house is bad enough. Wrathion unpacks into it, his motley collection of possessions now increased to include a small number of things swiped from the first class carriage of The Sandman, and supposes if he thinks of it as a cave he can excuse it. He's fond of caves, his natural affinity for the earth making them comfortable to him even when... lacking decor.

This, however, is....

An unusual choice. Windows are something mortals usually enjoy, no? To take in the view of their surroundings? Enjoy sunlight? Perhaps something to do with the dilapidated state of the village. Perhaps the lack of windows keeps the weather out.

It certainly isn't keeping toads out, but we aren't talking about that or the shadows under his eyes that seemingly darken a little with every passing day.

Well, they're staying here regardless of course. It feels the right choice, he thinks.

He stands on the threshold of the windowless house, watching the parents of a useless young man retreat back to their home, then glances down at the neat gift basket in his hands. It contains a large quantity of smoked fish. A bribe in the hopes the matchmaker will bless their child with a good partner.

"Well," he says, flicking his eyes up and around to someone he senses watching. "I don't suppose you're hungry?"