She greeted her hosts with a polite bow. An Athosian family had agreed to take her in. They smiled. The way most humans do, and provided their new charge all the hospitality their humble abode could afford. A warm meal, a cold drink, a light-hearted conversation, a place to sleep. It was late after all, and she bowed once more before she retreated to what was from now on to be her room.

The bed was comfortable enough, the sheets were clean, but she couldn't fall asleep. She tossed to her left, turned to her right, and counted the wooden rafters.

"We're sure you'll come to like it soon enough if you give it a try" The woman had said, referring to her new life. The man had detailed the rules of his house; Curfew was to be obeyed, mealtimes observed. Other than this she was free to come and go as she pleased.

They were nice people. His name was Orin. Her name was Josephine. He was a lumberjack and it showed in most everything from his massive arms to the giant ax that hung by the door to the little trees embroidered in their table cloth.

They had shown her to a room and told her it was hers now. A room the girl could have sworn had once belonged to Orin's son. It was also a room that a moth had inadvertently found it's way into, but it was not the reason she couldn't fall sleep.

She sat up in her bed and watched, by moonlight, as the bug rammed repeatedly against the glass. She wondered what possessed the tiny creature to spend the remainder of its short life in utter futility. Did it want to be free that much? Could it even want? Did it have a will? Or was the behavior simply the result of a series of complex chemical reactions in its tiny insect brain?

If it could want, would it still peruse freedom simply for freedoms sake?

She flipped the leaver on the latch and let the window swing inward. A breath of fresh air tumbled in her direction as the moth fluttered out. The air brought the smell of pine needles and a few memories of a family, much like this one now, that had been kind to her before. She grimaced at the thought of what had become of them.

How long would she last she wondered. How long before the four walls and the comforts they contained became like a prison for her? How long before the insatiable desire for more consumed her? A day? A month? A year?

If she left now. If she disappeared into the night she could reach the gate before sunrise, but where would she even go?

She shut the window but didn't close the latch, this was not possible from the outside.