A cabin in the woods - what could go wrong?

Now and then, Thomas liked to walk in the woods. He used to go walking on the moors, when the weather was decent. He tried to avoid them when it wasn't - unpleasant memories of trudging along after his father. One such memory of being left behind, of nearly dying.

But today was a good day, and the woods were filled with bird song. Thomas wondered if he could make a bird that was sort of like a music box. He'd have to ask Daine if the sounds seemed right; he wondered if Belle could help him with the smaller pieces.

He paused when he saw... a cabin? He frowned, trying to remember if it had ever been there before. He was positive it hadn't been, he came out here often enough. He felt drawn to move a bit closer, but he was slow, cautious.