Hannibalbarka

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?))

Forka would glance quickly at Uslop (His litter mate), then turning his gaze back upon the old women, attempting to gather the scent of the old women in front of the two. "Waat?" He grunt's taking a minuet to sit down on the cushion "Oww'd you know we'd be ere? Black magik? We don't like dat slime from whearree we'z from hummie." He'd take a deep breath and begin to tell of his back story now thinking that the women would harm him if he didn't "Elll maybe we'z tellz ya, we from the great duuneee cavess, AHAHA, bestestes of da duneeee's we is. Now we'z errra and we'z hungry, no one want's to be fightin da forsaken cubs of da caves mhmmm." He'd scratch his large chin, looking back at his brother now sitting behind him. "We'z beinn havin to go now, food time it is, and we'z be always hungryy we arrr." He'd lean forward knowing his brother was pulling their weapons from sheaths beneath their tattered clothing.