The way was foggy, but her instincts told her it wouldn't be long now until she found the cabin. Her powerful mustang was tired, and took slowly plodded on. She shivered, thankful for her cloak. Apprehension rose in her. What if that if the rumors were even partially true? What if the legends were myths?
She used her physics book as a table to sketch the man fishing. I've never seen someone who is so into art yet carries a physics book. He said sitting down next to her. She instantly closed her sketch book. And looked up she shoo the stranger.