This time she looked more carefully at what was available.Found a pair of sturdy leather boots—practical, ankle-height, good soles.And a pair of simple leather shoes for when boots were too much.
She brought them inside and set them by the door.
"Better," she said, mostly to herself.
Walter had finished with the pecans.The bowl was full of perfectly shelled nut meats."Shall I tell you more about the town?Or would you prefer to continue setting up house?"
Wren looked around.She still needed to figure out the bathing situation.The wooden tub in the bathroom—did it even have a bathroom?She'd barely looked.
"Is there a bathroom here?"she asked.
"Through that door, madam."Walter pointed with one paw to a door she'd barely registered near the bed platform.
She opened it.
A small room, wooden walls curved like the rest of the house.And there—a wooden tub.Oval, deep, beautifully made.It looked like it had been carved from a single piece of wood, impossibly smooth inside.
But no way to heat water.Just cold running water from a spout above it.
She frowned, thinking.The sunflower had heated the oven...
She stood there, staring at the tub and the cold water spout, trying to puzzle it out.
"Problem, madam?"Walter had appeared in the doorway, whiskers twitching curiously.
"I need hot water for a bath.But I only have cold."
"Ah yes, that is a challenge."Walter considered."You could heat rocks in the fires, then transfer them to the bath.It’s a camping trick.It's a bit tedious, but effective."
"Rocks in the oven, then move them to the tub?"She thought about the glowing sunflower seeds."That could work."
"I'd recommend a sturdy container for the transfer," Walter added."You don't want to burn yourself.And perhaps set them in shallow bath water first—less splashing that way."
She nodded slowly, working it out.Heat rocks in the oven.Use one of the larger gourd bowls—no, wait, the bowl was flammable.Wood and extreme heat didn't mix well.
"I need something metal," she said."A pail or bucket."
"You could likely purchase one in town," Walter suggested."Or trade for one.Metal goods are always valuable."
Right.Another reason to visit the market soon.
For now, she'd have to make do.Soak the bowl.Heat the rocks, scrape them into the bowl quickly, dump them in the tub before the bowl scorched too badly.Not ideal, but it would work.
She went outside and gathered fist sized rocks from near the gate and washed them off.Brought them back and placed them in the oven on the shelf above the glowing sunflower seeds.
While they heated, she organized more of her harvest.Found a bottle brush plant in her purse—when grown, it produced actual brushes in various sizes.One large enough for scrubbing, one small enough for...hair?
She held up the smaller brush, testing the bristles.Soft enough.That would work.
The rocks were starting to heat.She bit her lip as she stared at the oven door."Here goes nothing," she muttered.
Using a stick and one of the gourd bowls, she carefully scraped the sizzling rocks out of the oven.The soaked bowl steamed immediately, the wood darkening.She hurried to the bathroom and dumped them into the tub where she'd already run a few inches of cold water.The water hissed and steamed, and the rocks sank, still glowing.
She repeated the process twice more—the gourd bowl was definitely worse for wear, scorch marks across the bottom, but it held together.
The bathwater was warm.Not hot, but warm enough.
She'd take it.
