Rhys had just got back from collecting firewood, and he had worked up a semblance of a sweat. He dropped the wood in a wooden box engraved..."wood", and then wiped his brow. Aelhaearn floated down through the ceiling behind him and whispered, "Gaaaas...."
Straightening his back; Rhys turned to the front of the house and listened for a sound...but nothing came. He looked back to his Gastly with a raised eyebrow, who replied with a nod and a wave forward from its outer layer of poison gas. Still holding the axe, Rhys moved through the house without making a noise; surprising when wearing thick boots on naturally creaking floorboards. He readied his weapon as he rounded the corner, flowing effortlessly into the front room.
No one was there. His guard dropped as he looked to Aelhaearn yet again, shaking his head and shrugging as the supposed threat was apparently nonexistent. As good as a ball of gas can, the Gastly mimicked the shrug with its purple haze. Still shaking his head, Rhys went back to the mud room to drop off the axe and remove his snowy shoes.
Aelhaearn stayed in the main lobby and stared at the front door. Could have sworn.....