"If you do, you can always blame it on me. I'm a good scapegoat." He gave an impish grin and tugged on his coat. "It's pretty chilly out today, but what can you do? Switzerland." He offered her a scarf and some gloves, obviously feminine ones. "Brought these along, just in case." He grinned, "So when was it where you are from? Are you used to modern times? I've met a couple people that have come from long, long ago, and it's hard to bring them through into the now. You wouldn't believe it, but one of Shakespeare's characters showed up. Ophelia."
He always saw Ophelia as one of the most tragic characters in Hamlet. Or in any Shakespearean play, for that matter.
He led her out into the snowy outdoors, and up the street, where at the end of the street, there was a rather large, but quaint wood cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney. Outside on the yard, there was a large snow sculpture of an electric guitar. "My grandpa did that," He mentioned as they passed it, and he stepped inside, "Hey guys, I'm back. We've got a visitor." He called into the living room as he shed his boots and coat.
Inside the cabin, it was warm and cozy, and was already decorated for Christmas. There was glitter on nearly every surface, which was the result of a glitter fight between at least two of the people who lived there.