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?)) Squash foot looks puzzled at the question as his body moves under his tattered cloths that he may or may not have stolen “I’m not sure I’ve only recently been up rooted”Squash say as he look down at the dirt on my root legs then back at the hag “well what brought you here” the hag asked her eyes narrowing “I’m not sure my brain is foggy” Squash says as he looks at the floor then back at the hag one could see my mind go blank for a moment “hello I’m Squash foot have we met before” he says the the hag she raises an eye brow “we were just talking” she says “oh” he replied “I should go” he adds as he leaves the hag looks at him confused as to what happened.
