Breakfast? Breakfast.

The tantalizing smell of food and the gentle humming coming from down the wooden spiral stairs bid you take your place among them. You shiver slightly as you descend to the ground floor, you see snow is half covering the windows on this level.

You look at this den, fur covered couches, oil lamps, deer trophies, and the musky smell of the lodge permeate the room. You notice a handful of Polaroids on the table near the vacant fireplace in this room.

You notice a pair of jackets hung by the door, both are heavy winter coats but one is far too large for you. There also seems to be a sunbathing ginger cat on a bookcase.

The kitchen appears to be through another door