cynicallynx

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?))
 

Flynn lingered by the entrance longer than he shoud have. His tired gaze flickered between the candles and the hag painfully slowly. He exhaled through his nose with a hint of annoyance. „You think I enjoy yattering about myself? Not even close.” He said as he crossed his arms.
 

„Come on, now. Don’t make me beg. You know this is inevitable.” Said the woman, as she poured herself a warm cup of something. The drink smelled pleasant with herbs. However the sight of it was rather off putting.
 

„…Been expecting me, have you?” He asked, without really waiting for an answer. „Don’t dress it up, it’s a rotten hole. Same as the last one.” He said, waving his hand around as he made his way over to the worn down cushion the woman was previously pointing at. He sat down with an annoyed exhale.
 

„Wasn’t too hard, was it?” Chuckled the woman and rested her old hands on top of the little table like furniture that separated them. She took a quick glance ont he scarf resting on Flynn’s shoulders loosely.
 

„…You want a story. Friggin’ shame, you’ll get the short one.” He paused for a brief moment before speaking up again. „I lived in a wee village, isignificant for the most part. Up North. Been livin’ with my parents and my… sister.” His voice cracked as soon as he mentioned his sister. „That’s all you’ll get.” He murmured, crossing his arms with more force than he intended to.
 

The hag took a small sip of whatever she poured herself previously. „Ah…” She raised her face from the cup with a relieved exhale. „Coldstream, you said?” She asked gently like she had simply just misheard him.
 

„I didn’t- How the hell would you-„ He mumbled, but didn’t get much chance to finish whatever he was trying to say.
 

„Come on, Flynnster. You can do better than that.” Said the woman, cutting him off with a wide smile on her face. She shifted in her place, settling comfortably on top of the cushion she was sitting on.
 

Flynn’s eyes widened upon hearing what she just said. He haven’t heard that nickname ever since that day. And how the hell did she knew his name? He ran his hands along his face as he exhaled deeply. „Coldstream, yeah…That’s what we called it. Not many souls, a handful ’o houses at most. I lived there with my parents and sister, Freya.” He said, reaching for the scarf drooped on his shoulders. „Most days I helped father in the garden… so did mum.”
 

„And what made you leave?” She asked softly, as her fingers traced the teacup’s edges.
 

Flynn’s hand slowly slid off the scarf that he’s been messing with. „Askin’ like you don’t already know?” He scoffed. „Fine… We argued. I said things I shouldn’t have. I left for a couple days.” He paused for a split second. „Came back to open door and windows. Faint smoke. Few bodies. Valuables gone.” He murmured. „Buried them myself. Family too. That enough for you, or do you want me to dress it up properly?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his tone.
 

The hag nodded along, almost as if she was there with him, almost as if she had seen everything with her own eyes. „Will you not speak of your time spent wandering around in the forests, dear?” She asked, tilting her head carefully.
 

„No.” Flynn said simply and easily. As if the woman had just asked whether he’d like a cup of tea or not.
 

„A long time spent under the open sky… a long time in solitude.” Murmured the woman, almost to herself. „Ah, sleeping on moss beneath wide trees… How I miss those quiet woods.” She reached across the little table and took Flynn’s hands in hers. „You know, dear, you’ve already let too many years slip by. Youth is a fleeting thing. It’s time you do something.” She gave his hands a light, reassuring squeeze. „And one small piece of advice… smile more, child. You have such fine teeth.” She released his hands with a faint smile.
 

„I’ve had quite enough smiles for today.” Flynn said and sprung up from his seat as soon as he finished his sentence. He went straight for the entrance. „Bloody mountebank.” He muttered under his nose as he hurriedly fixed his collar and stepped out of the tent.