I pause at the entrance of the tent before stepping inside, the damp smell of the swamp clinging to my cloak. My eyes wander to the strange candles floating above, their dim light casting long shadows across the worn fabric walls.
Slowly, I take the seat she offers, keeping a cautious eye on the old crone.
“So… you were expecting me?” I say, my voice careful but steady. “That is strange, considering I scarcely knew this place existed until a few days ago.”
I rest my hands together, thinking for a moment before continuing.
“I have traveled far to reach this town. Rumors along the road spoke of someone in the swamp who sees more than others… someone who understands things most folk fear.” My gaze drifts briefly toward the tent entrance, listening to the quiet croaking of frogs outside.
“My village has been troubled as of late—strange happenings in the woods, people claiming to hear whispers in the night. I could not ignore it any longer, so I set out to find answers.”
I look back at the hag, studying her expression.
“If you truly were expecting me… then perhaps you already know why I’ve come. So tell me, what is it you see?”
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