The people who came to her were cold and lonely. They drifted in from elsewhere. Some only stayed for a night. Some stayed longer.
They were drawn in by the light of her fire. She invited them to sit and listen. As she spoke she would take her words from the air and spin them in to yarn. She collected the yarn and wove together narratives that they could wrap themselves up in.
When they left they would take the story she had spun with them, no longer feeling lonely or cold, and share it with the next solitary soul.