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.”
*azaria walks closer taking a glance at the chair before carefully sitting down* "where do you know me from?... a- and can we talk over a meal maybe? im staaaarving" *azaria doesnt care about formailitys too much. her mother has ruined that for her being wayyyy too strict. she hasnt brought nearly enouch food for her trip so she is starving. she has no choice but to talk to the hag and hopefully get a meal out of this*
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