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.” ((How do you respond?))
"Hm? Oh you mean me?" Elisa would take a moment to look around before realising that yes, the woman was talking to her... "Um, well... I'll sit down first." Elisa plods over towards the cushion, plopping down and shuffling about a little to get comfortable. "I uh, I used to be a librarian. Then my library burnt down when this prick got into a fight with some black cloaked bastard..." She stops for a minute and sighs, looking around the tent. Elisa would open her mouth for a second, before shaking her head and closing it again. Her eyes keep darting from the ground up to the hag and back again. "I'm looking for something though, or well someone. I don't know really I guess. I mean I was hoping to find someone but I don't... I don't know who I'm looking for. I think it's complicated. Of course it's complicated... sorry." Elisa looks up again, waiting for the old woman to say something. "I um... I'm gonna go, I'm gonna leave. Yeah, sorry. I think I need to go." Elisa would stand up and brush herself down, her ruffled cape fills out as a quick gust of wind runs through the tent. After stepping outside, the bitter cold snaps at Elisa despite her cloak and thick woollen garb. She stops and jolts, grimacing before turning back around and stepping inside the tent. "Hi, yes sorry it's me again... you said you were expecting me? I -- I've never seen you before have I? Sorry, who are you exactly? How did you know I was coming? Were you just saying that to freak me out? I -- I'm a bit lost... I'm a bit..." Elisa tightens her hands into gripping fists, her fingernails biting into her own skin. A single tear would roll down her cheek and she sits down again. This time, Elisa says nothing and simply stares at the old woman. Silence would fill the air for what is, in reality precious few moments, but to Elisa feels like hours. "I talk when I'm nervous. I have nowhere to go and yet all I am doing is going. If you wouldn't mind, I think I'd just like to sit quietly with you. Just for a little while..."
