[ Michonne tends to agree, and she takes the katana from its sheath again to prod, probably futilely, as high up the chimney as it can go, hoping to knock down any immediate debris. She doesn't; if anything is up there it's too high, but now she can say she tried. ]

Didn't mean to make light of it, your situation. Just never heard something said out loud like that before.

[ Which is saying something, honestly. Slowly she looks around; they need paper, something to get things started, and she knocks around the cabin again, finally cutting open a very flat, sad pillow that has just enough stuffing. Maybe she'll regret it if she comes back here to wait out her time later, sacrificing the only soft thing, but warmth is more important for now. ]

And we don't need matches. Already have everything we need. [ Tossing the pillow remnants in the hearth, she stands, then glances over, realizing she still hasn't introduced herself to the woman. One thing at a time. ] Stand back, just in case.

[ With one hand she grips the hilt, then swings it hard against the stone, sparks flying and showering down on the makeshift kindling. She does it again, and again, until the sparks catch and they have smoke. Kneeling, she blows gently, then feeds a little more of the kindling in until she can think about something bigger and looks around, gaze-honening in on one of the only pieces of furniture. ]

We'll need more fuel. Dry wood. Think you can break down that chair?