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?)) "I .. do i know you? Are you a witch?" I look around the tattered tent to see if i can find something suspicious before i walk closer to the woman. "So are you an elf? or are you something else?" I ask suspicious of her intentions. I finally decide to sit down but out of arms reach stil wary of the old woman. "Why is your tent so... out of shape?" I let my hand slide over the fabric of the tent and look through one of the many holes. "and how do you know me? did my parents talk to you?" I didn't give her a chance to answer any of my questions but instead kept asking questions. I smell the air and flinch because of the stench "And do you even take bathe yourself? ... Nevermind that is beside the point." I look at her and wait for her to answer all of my questions while i brush my hair away from my face.
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