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?)) Example: (delete this)
A moment of silence filled the room, almost thicker than the smell of the decaying and molding wood.
"Not by choice, ma'am." Jaemie's voice was soft, full of respect despite his usual demanding and cold attitude.
"I'm selling my roses and herbs to the town's people for my mother. She's beginning to catch a cold and I'm afraid all I have left are these to pay it off." His pale gray orbs, an asset that commonly made people mistake him for being blind, danced over all the small details in the room. "Though I assume maybe you know her.. since your gaze keeps lingering like you're trying to find some resemblance between us. I'm afraid I don't look exactly like her. My father was not Korean like her, so we bare different facial shapes and my complexion is a little darker than hers." His voice trailed off, the thought of his adventurous father lingering in his mind and causing him to gaze off toward the ceiling before he returned his gaze back to the lady with a shake in his head. This caused his dark hair to cling to his forehead.
"My father is currently still not with us, though I assume you know this if you do already know my mother. Last I saw him he proclaimed he would return with riches. I have assumed the role of man of the house every since, and I've been my mother's only caretaker." The conversation was only taking from the little time he had to sell off his already withering plants and his mother could only last so long in her condition.
And with how scrawny Jaemie was, Miss Yang would probably be a skeleton compared to him. He would never let his mother starve if it meant he was the one who had food on his plate. "I apologize, I must be off. I will promise you more of my time once I return." Without awaiting her response, he dashed passed her in his thick clothing, hoarding his concealed herbs to his chest. His body lacked much energy, which made him quicken his pace, hoping it make it back home before dawn.
