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.”
I smile and drop down onto the cushion. "It's nothing exciting" I look at her sincerely. "I have always dreamed of exploring the world and experiencing new things. I was fascinated by stories of far-off lands and yearned to see them myself. However my sick grandmother kept me tied to home, I was the only one who could look after her, she shortly passed away and I had no reason to stay." I frowned and paused for a moment, picking at my nails. "A group of travellers passed through my village, and I was curious about their stories and their way of life. I had become friends with one who was a kind old man who showed me kindness and told me about all the excitement that I could find outside. I had left home about a year ago and joined their group it was the best decision of my life. I'm currently trying to find a place to call home and meet more people." I laughed awkwardly.
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