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?))
The starting comment catches the redhead off guard. Their gaze snaps towards the old woman, hesitation flickering onto their freckled face. Should they be honest and answer truthfully? Truth be told, Cassian isn't sure what to make of her. But as they always believed, being truthful led to better outcomes. Sometimes.
"Ah— hello!" They stammer a bit, fumbling over their tongue. They would have given up if they weren't in the company of someone new. The stench of the swamp water and rotting wood did nothing to help them focus. It was intense, making them wrinkle their nose and lip curve slightly with the action. "I'm uh, Cassian— you knew I was coming?"
a beat of silence, then a nervous tick in the form of them wringing their hands together. Now, they COULD tell their story, but before they do, they need to know...
"Then— you know about my brother? Did... did he come through here?"
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