Word Count: 440
The woman felt Raskolnikov and herself were getting off to a good start in these new lands. She even managed to make a friend or two, despite the language barrier between them. Raskolnikov seemed at ease for the first time in months and to see him so relaxed made her happy. Formally, it was out of her control but he found safety in these parts and it was enough for her, even if she was not with her family. Raskolnikov was her family now, having dropped her maiden name and taken on his when they decided to run away from Italy and take the world on as a big challenge and a canvas for them to start their new family upon. It was excited and scary to think about and while it was a new adventure, she knew some day she would want to return to Italy and be with her family.
Sonja felt they would have objected to her leaving with someone she barely knew, someone who convinced her there was good in what he had done, but nothing could convince her otherwise. Raskolnikov was, despite their differences, her knight in shining armor. She was content back in Italy, in the small town she was born and raised in, but the thrill of this was new and exciting each day. There was something new to face. Besides, her mother had done something similar long ago and it was Sonja's time to take the reign of her life and experience things she might never get the chance to again. The naive woman had to learn someway and what better way than going through experiences with someone she felt safe with? Raskolnikov would protect her, she knew that much, and would help her when she called for him.
The man was inside the house, perhaps working on the doors inside while Sonja was taking a break from cleaning. It was a work in progress but it would take much more than a few days to complete. Several rooms were disarray and there was broken furniture to mend or replace and it took about an entire day to complete one. Several trips were made to the inner workings of the village but she did not mind. Now, however, she was taking a break and sitting on the slightly snow dusted porch steps and staring across the white terrain. It was a little cloudy with an overcast which caused her to squint but she did not mind. The air was crisp and fresh and had a completely different taste than Italy had but it was not something she could put a finger on.
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