Um...I guess it's a house

Nyarti looked around and sighed. "Hummmm. I really do have to fix up this place. Macre, it's filthy." Speaking her language made her feel free. Like she was unique. Her mother used to tell her that before she was killed along with her father in an accident at the place where they worked. Nyarti shook her head, trying to clear her mind of these painful memories. She fixed herself a bowl of porridge and was just sitting down to eat it when there was a knock on the door.