Mahavira Mehta

The cold wind howls as it sends its little stingers of ice into your exposed skin. You shiver, and try to wrap your hood tighter around your face. The cold gets steadily colder, the wind steadily stronger. Just as you are about to give up, you see a small light in the distance.
Hoping it's a fire or shelter of some sort, you make your way blindly toward it. Soon, your hands hit a warm wooden door, and you reach around for the handle. You pull the door open, and nearly fall inside, shutting the door quickly behind you.
You stand up and look around, nearly crumpling to the ground again in happiness, for warmth surrounds you like a mother's hug. You stumble closer to the fire and sit down near the hearth, trying to rub some warmth into your hands, your feet. 
"Hello, dear." A voice says behind you. You jump up and spin around to find a young woman in an armchair you had previously thought empty.
"Oh, hello. Sorry, I was caught in the blizzard, and saw your cottage, and wanted warmth. I did not mean any harm. I swear. I just wanted some shelter . . ."You started to babble, worried she would kick you out.
"It is alright, dear, calm down." She waited until I stopped talking and took a deep breath. "Good. I understand why you came here, and hold no hard feelings. Do no worry. How about I make you some tea?"
You nod, smiling slightly in gratitude. "Thank you, Miss . . .?"
"Mahavira." She stood up, heading to the kitchen. "Sit down, sit down. And take a book from the pile next to you, I won't mind." With a start, you realize there is, indeed, a pile of books next to the armchair you chose. You pick one and start to read . . .
~
As you have probably guessed, I am Mahavira. I would like to say, thank you so much for reading my books, and if you haven't, and least taking the time to read my entire about section. If you want to talk to somebody about giraffes, aliens, bullying, or anything, I'm here for you.