Plausifraunz

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.”

((How do you respond?))

     The general area gave off a boorish sense of feeling, the inside of the tent both a sense of comfort and the beginning of her paranoia. Firae wasn't keen on putting her guard down to someone she should consider her elder and this town seemed less then ideal. 
     "Dingy? I'm just looking for a place to stay before I keep wandering," she remarked, a tilt of her head. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the crone, listening to the eerie sentence that followed her question. There was clear silence in the air, Firae still not willing to sit down let alone comment on anything before being urged. 
     Firae took a seat on the cushion offered, reluctant to even talk. "Simply traveling through. I broke off from my settlement to seek glory elsewhere," Firae stated, a twinge of pridefulness in her tone, "we weren't doing well as a settlement, I grew up hungry. My father was a hunter and worked with my mother to do leatherworking. It was the one thing that sustained us, crafted goods and food that we could trade or eat. I took a page from their book and learned their trade and broke off from the settlement hoping there's better places and ways to live," She smiled briefly.
     "I don't believe there is much more to say, I apologize. I should go find elsewhere to relax." Firae stood up. She brushed her hand against the fold opening to the tent, making her leave carefully. Her hand plucking her cloak upwards to avoid the assumedly muddy grass.