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.”
⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘
"Expecting?- h- how did you?-" His face contorted with confusion, before stepping slightly further into the tent, continuing this time more clearly: "How did you know I'd be here.." Thomas paused in the tent's entrance, jittering in place as his eyes landed, somehow through all his hair, at the hag. He wasn't sure why he'd entered, but he was here now, being spoken to.
He itched at the back of his neck, peering around the shabby indoor. Rubbing his nose of the smell, he grounded himself to the cushion, through a mumble, he voiced- "A .. story? Well.. I.. I come from the north. I'm looking for a new start. I have been on a road without settlements for some time now." He hesitated to go into anything else; it seemed he was keeping it vague on purpose, odd, but the hag probably knew the truth anyway. "My family's small settlement was poor; I am looking to make something of myself so they'll be proud of me, just like they asked me to." He finished, shuffling oddly in place, as if this entire situation made him wildly uncomfortable.
⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ˎˊ˗ ·˖✶ ☽ ☼ ☾ ✶˖· ˗ˏˋ⫘⫘
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