Sister House, by light of day, appeared despondent, like the face of a beautiful woman whose time had passed. But at night, especially beneath the light of a yellow moon, its fading beauty changed to a visage that was almost sinister; a small mountain of a house, obscuring and devouring the forest behind it, a forest that threatened to take it back.
One day, the trees seemed to say as they bobbed and dipped in the wind. One day that land will be ours again. Until then, we wait. 
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