Mira'len spent her first 12 years being raised by her parents, bowmen of the Holy Protectorate of Malin who perished during the War for Azuras; though is unable to remember if it was during the Battle of Kal'Baraz or the Battle of White Cavern. During this time she was separated from her remaining family, and fled into the Forest of Iryalen in a bout of grief-induced hysteria. Becoming lost, she wandered for days until stumbling upon another mind-addled soul who claimed to be a druid, yet appeared just as confused about their whereabouts as she. The pair travelled the wilderness together, and Mira'len was taught bits and pieces of herbalism and druidic codes, though does not claim to know the accuracy of her teachings. One day her mentor disappeared without a trace, and so she continued her journey alone, with only the trees to keep her company. Eventually, she heard whispers of a place called the Viridian Enclave- a haven of sorts for druids, and felt this may be where her path leads. So off she has gone to seek proper tutelage, and perhaps a new family as well.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
The first thing Mira'len notices about the shack she's entered is the scent. Was that incense? She can't quite tell, but it's thick, and not entirely unpleasant. It reminds her of something buried deep in the catacombs of her mind, uneasiness creeping up her throat like snakes. She swallows down her anxiety; now is not the time.
Right! A query.
"...Kae? Tenna-" She pauses, realizing there is a chance that the hag does not speak that tongue. Mira'len clears her throat, expression sheepish. "S-sorry- I- it's complicated." Her accent is noticeable, but not as horribly thick as expected, and going off of her taken-aback semblance- she didn't expect it either.
Mira'len quiets a moment then, pondering the latter question as she finally remembers to take the seat offered to her. She's not proud of her response, but also cannot offer anything better. "I hope to... find myself." She admits quietly, "I've been lost for far too long."
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