Pricimity

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?))

She scanned the room, wary. she'd eye the crone, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with a growing silence, until.. "Well howdy there!" She breaks the silence, her overexcitement to be there beaming from head to toe. "I heard yall needed some help?" Prim's country accent highlights the tip of her scratchy voice with every word that leaves her mouth. By this point she'd sat down on the cushion the old lady had gestured to, got right comfy, and continued on. "I'm an herbalist, a nurse, and a good one at that. I come from Aureon, one of the lesser known and more isolated seeds of the bunch. Although I'm young... 19 to be exact.. I was taught mighty right by my grandmother, and have set out onto an adventure to heal others, discover more herbs and tinctures, basically learn all I possibly can. Most wood elves stay in the tribe from where I come, grow old and tend to their families farms and homes, and overall consistently keep our tribe diconnected from the rest of the seeds, but I yearn for more. Dream for more." She'd paused, as the lady continued to watch her, Prim started to continue. "Before he passed, my father always said to me: 'Prim, no creature or living being is greater than the wild, greater than mother nature'. And I stand by that, we live and prosper under her kindness, and I strive to forever protect that piece of love for our Earth. My mother passed with my birthing, I have no siblings, and my father died fighting in the Great War of Unity when I was but a little jit. So, I grew up with my grandmother, learned her practice, and ended up leaving to find more. Much more." Her demeanor had changed since her first grand entrance, she'd sombered, quieted. The old lady looked to the young lady, then to the small opening within the tent in the sky, the starlit sky shone through that small opening. The crone spoke, "Well, young lady, you must get too it now dont you?".