You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You 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.”
Sabrina stares at the figure with her gentle but paranoid eyes, darting up and down at the hag with fearful curiosity. As odd as she sees the scenario to be, she takes a seat anyways on the cushion, sitting on her legs slowly as she keeps her eyes on the other. “. . Evening,” she gently says. “What a curious thing to ask . . .” Gently placing her fingers on her lips in curiosity, her ears twitching slightly as she thinks of what to say.
”. . I am nobody, really. Nobody as far as I know, I don’t remember much of where I came from or who made me; but I did find work under a doctor for some time as some sort of assistant.” She looks distant with her words, hazy eyes looking at nothing exactly. “Now I left that place, left long ago for how I was treated. All I seek now is true connections with people. . I want to help others.”
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