It stood there in plain sight, in the midst of a forest that had only seen the likes of it around its borders. It was small, suited for a bachelor or a couple, though it was hard to fathom what sort of family could be raised there. The skinny trees around it did little to hide it, only obscure it slightly. The forest continued behind it, lush and green and alive. The hut was definitely old. The slabs of wood that made up its walls were discolored in places, no one slab was identical with the other. There were splotches of moss around the hut that looked like splattered paint, and the sun shone blindingly on the galvanized roof. The little hut at least had a passable foundation and it perched upon it, safe from floods and little crawling animals. 

There were no windows on the sides of the hut, only two in the front- one meticulously placed in the top center where the wood slanted to a peak, and one that fit snugly on one side of the entrance. No door could be immediately seen, but if one peered closely, the outline of one was like a ghost in the dark interior. If not for the two seemingly flimsy planks of wood that protruded from the doorway and slanted towards the ground, it would take one huge step and some sturdy legs to enter.

Inside, the wooden floor was evidently swept daily but there were still traces of dirt. Compared to the dirt that resided outside, it seemed almost spotless. Compared to most city apartments of proud owners, it was dingy, unlit and poorly decorated. The two little windows cast rays of dusty light that did little to liven up the place. One of the rays fingered a small, crudely built table that was bare except for a large knife, a dogeared notebook and its well used pen, a clean bowl holding its utensils and an unlit lamp. A ratty deer-hide rug rested on the floor, and some furs covered a bed that bored a single pillow, thin sheet and a surprisingly whole foam mattress. Aside from those things, there was nothing else in the hut except for a bucket half filled with water and a few articles of clothing strewn around. The clothes were well worn and it seemed as if they had been used for years, enduring countless washings, wringings and dryings. It was clear that this hut belonged to one person. 

The person emerged. He was not very striking in appearance and there was nothing too odd about him given his abode. He had a thick bushy beard, wild hair that seemed as though he had tried to cut it neatly but failed, and he was fully clothed in a shirt and a long pants that was ripped and patched several times. He was clutching his knife in one hand and stopped as he descended the two planks of wood that served as a ramp of sorts. He looked around and listened. There was naught but his silent breath and the songs of birds that sang to him from high above. But he seemed to sense more than that. 

The man walked into the forest, pausing to gather a clump of mushrooms that grew on the base of a tree. These he studied for a moment, and placed them into one of his pockets for his supper later. With one more glance around, eyes as wild as the forest around him, he disappeared amongst the trees.