Peola glances into the dimly lit tent, her eyes glancing towards the frail old woman sitting in the corner.
Peola slowly walks towards the old hag noticing the towering piles of books littering the tent, finding a small tattered cushion Peola lets out an exasperated sigh.
Slowly sitting down onto the cushion Peola winces as she stares at the puddle seeping out of the pillow, finally looking at the old hag Peola winces.
With a gaze to the orb sitting on the small table in front her Peola lets out another sigh "so your some kind of shrink i take it" scoffing at the hag.
The hag stares back at Peola laughing to herself, "So are you going to tell me your story?" the hag replies.
Looking back at the hag Peola scoffs "Their is no story to tell im afraid" slowly standing up and leaving the tent "but maybe one day i will return and tell it to you".
Peola and her family are fleeing from tyranny and war in their homeland only wishing to establish a peaceful place for them to live.

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