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.”
She scoffed. "why should I tell you?'" The lady raised her eyebrow. "I knew elves were rude, but this is beyond my expectations. She turned around. The elf looked up. Annoyed. "Wait." She said, almost desperate. "I wait." The lady said without turning around. "I am lost... sort of." "Right." She did not believe the young elf. Eventhough elves are immortal and keep theit enternal youth, this one looked especially young. 'Look, I need a place to stay..." The elf almost begged. "Hm..." Merethyl ran away from home, she could not bare to sleep another night in a tree. Her body begged for a nice and warm bed. Even if it was made of hay. "Well, you look like you could use a bed." "Wait... Why were you expecting me?" The elf stoot up from her chair. "You have your secrets, I have mine." "The elf nodded and hesetantly walked with the woman. Merethyl was keeping one eye open tonight, not for the people she was running from, but this woman too. Now that she thought of it, she looked awfully similar. She could not however put a finger on it.
