Lizzylove21

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?))

Damp, dark, cold air hits Bright in her nostrils as she peels open the tent and ducks inside, not too shocked to find a ragged old woman sitting there. Old and boney, the woman studies her and speaks as the damp air seems to pull all of the moisture from Brights mouth. Swallowing, the faire halfling sits as instructed, and opens her mouth to answer with a voice that stutters with uncertainty. 
"I-, I am on a journey of new beginnings. My old home was ravaged, and the people that are left there have... just given up. It no longer felt like the place that I grew up in, and I had always dreamed of starting my own life elsewhere someday anyway. My birthplace is far now, and my adventure has been long and arduous, but...I am certain this is where I am meant to be, right in this moment." 

As she finishes, voice picking up in confidence, she meets eye with the taller still sitting person in front of her. They are shining with determination, eyebrows furrowed in the middle in concentration.  As the Old Crone begins to grin, teeth yellowed and blackening under thin dry lips, Bright finds her heart beginning to race.  It's as if everything has led her to this moment, finding this old tent in a town she's never been too. The womans voice sounds in response with a hint of joy in her tone.
"If that is the case, you will need friends to guide you and keep you safe on your passages. You'll go left from this town, travel for three nights and four days, and find another. There you will meet those who will be your support, and those who will need yours." A boney, long nailed hand waves her toward the tents entrance, shooing the halfling off. 

Bright stands, offers the woman a respectable head dip, and turns to leave. Before she can open the tent flaps, she feels boney fingers encompass her wrist. Stopping to look back, Bright fights off the startled gasp that tries to rip from her throat.

"Y-Yes?" She chirps out, wanting to know why the woman would shoo her away only to catch her before she went. 
"Beware the Old God's Beliefs, child. Your race is known to follow false prophets. Follow your heart, and you will see the truth." 
Ominous, but not a threat. Bright smiles, albeit a bit confused, and turns again to wrap her smaller hand atop the old women's much colder digits. "Thank you for your concern, I will take your advice and keep it close. I have plenty of food for my journey, would you like me to stay and share a meal before I venture onward?" Her side carries a satchel that brings the smell of yeast and meats, it's a wonder that she hasn't been attacked by a wild animal yet. 
Surprised at the offer, the touch, and the kindness, the woman just stares for a moment. Taking in the warmth that travels from Bright's skin to hers. The pulse. 

Suddenly, practically tearing her hand away, she shakes her head vigorously. 
"*No.* You must leave now." 'You are on a timeline, child. You haven't the time to waste with an old witch like me.' The second sentence stays a thought as the woman ushers Bright out of the tent and tightly draws closed the flaps afterward, no more words or sounds coming from within after that. Bright hesitates, a little startled by the interaction, but takes the advice and heads left out of the small town.