the world: it appears to be only trees, as far as the mists of the storm can show.
within this world, there is a cabin, and someone within.
she takes from the trees, feeds a fire, and is granted safety from the storm through warmth.
this is how it is [forever] (represent long span of time somehow)
some day, the storm stills slightly. she can step outside safely
feeling that the outside no longer whips and drowns, she wonders if fire will last when taken from the cabin
she takes a piece of still-burning firewood, and places it outside. it remains lit
she wants the world to be as safe as the warmed cabin, and assembles a pile of firewood, lighting it
she is warmed. looking out at the somewhat cleared mists, she sees still no end to the woods
could she spread this new bastion of safety further? trees are made of firewood, so perhaps cutting too is unneccesary.