Red hair, 1,82 meters, about 81kg. Hazel eyes.
Usually using more formal outfits, well, he tries at least.
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.”
The man sat down, sighing. He's clearly feeling tired, after walking all day. Then, he started to talk.
----"Honestly... I don't even know anymore. I'm feeling weird, i am always feeling like this. You can call me a survivor, maybe." A long pause. The truth is, he doesn't even know his history. "I born at a small town, where everyone remembers to say good morning to everyone, every day. I've never been with my family, they're extremely religious. During my life i found true love training and writing. You can call me a family man, my children are my books."
After saying that, the elephant in the room was too big to ignore. Curiosity spawned at the hag.
----"Books? Really? Peculiar, at least... Tell me more about it, kid."
The man continued.
----"You could say i have a wild imagination. I hope to be seen by my art someday... and, i'm here because i'm kind of lost. I left home because of the death of my mom, that happend about two years ago. This looks like a good place to start a new life, i don't promise to stay here forever, but i have ambitions. Oh, and of course, if you need help to anything, i'm all up to it."
It was already night, the man decided to ask;
---"Hm... Hey, sorry to bother, can i sleep here?... My house is far from here."
So, the old woman answered.
----"Sure, kid. Tomorrow, i would like to know more of your... imaginary stories, if i can call them that."
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