cinnabumblebee

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? She begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”

((How do you respond?))
 

"Hhmn." Amber crosses her arms with visible skeptism, face visibly tensing up despite her attempts at hiding it. This highlander was not one for expressing herself willingly, for any of her exposed thoughts were made clear by her terrible poker face.

Amber opens her mouth to speak, only to cut herself off by the stranger's gaze. She can't help but feel oddly uncomfortable despite her usual bravery: feigned or not. Amber feels her body begin to move on its own accord, which, to her own surprise, she makes no attempt at resisting. Now sitting infront of the hag, the long eye contact is finally broken.

"...Well, err..." When Amber speaks, it's often in an informal tone. Not even this odd burst of paranoia flaring from her witheringheart would change that. In fact, nothing really does. "...I, uhh.. I don't know." 

Amber shifts her position on the cusion.

"I was born at a young age..." That's not helpful. The hag raises an eyebrow, prompting Amber to continue more seriously. "-aand I never met my dad. My mom raised me for a little while, but I was mostly on my own for a lot of the time."

Amber turns her head away to the tent's opening, the sound of rain growing more audible. She was relieved about it, frankly. Background noise is nice to have when you currently want to die because why am I EVEN HERE. Remembering that being "here" is in fact reality, however, her focus returns once again. Was she stalling, or just inattentive?

Both.

"I was fine, though. I mean, it was nothing anyone else couldn't handle. I guess I'm still trying to figure out what exactly I want to do," Amber suggests with a light shrug. "I've never felt the need to really belong anywhere. Working with others has always been frustrating. I don't like when people can't do things my way."

Lonliness seems to plague Amber, however, this mortal will never admit that. Not even to herself.

The room goes quiet. For the first time since Amber had originally entered, she sheepishly returns eye contact to the hag. Her voice lows.

"..That's pretty much it. Could... Could I leave, now?"