He steps into the tent, brushing the damp air off his shoulders as if it were sand. The smell of moss and rot is strange to him, back home, the air was always dry, filled with dust and heat. He sits carefully on the cushion, his posture showing both caution and curiosity.
“My name is Leo Abraham” he begins. “I come from far across the desert, where the days are long and the nights are colder than people think. I grew up surrounded by tradition, family, and the same streets I had walked my whole life. But the desert… it can trap you. You can live your whole life there and never see beyond the dunes.”
He pauses, glancing around at the flickering candles. “I wanted more than just the same routine. I wanted to see how people live in other lands, to learn new trades, to build something for myself outside of the place I was born. That’s why I left. The West is unfamiliar, yes, but it’s full of chances that I’d never find if I stayed where I was.”
Leaning forward slightly, he adds with a faint smile, “So here I am, sitting in a swampy town of all places. Strange as it is, this is the start of something new for me.”
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