She has, earlier in the year, thought about training the cattle more to pull carts or sleds. The goats, too, they seem sharp and strong enough for it. But it'd all gotten lost in an exhaustion which has haunted her for months, lingering and sapping excess energy until all she had time and energy to do was the Inn. Food preparation, cleaning, laundry, all her chores. She's finding more of herself now, but it is late in the year to start that.

"Well, so do feet after long enough time. My grandmama, um, my mother's mother, she told me of churches in the old country, all the steps worn from all the thousands of people walking over them for centuries. Which I hope we don't have to worry about here."

That's a thought, if they do, and not a pleasant one.

"Aye, of course. Although I'm thinkin' that anythin' might be better than just the mud we had last winter. Even if just in front of the Inn and the hall, and this building. We've trees enough, and I saw some sharp lookin' blades from last year. We might have somethin'."