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?)) A look of suspicion crosses the Farfolk's features, her eyes narrowing at the hag opposite her in the dreary tent. Her right hand curls hiding the ring on her index finger. "Me?" She asks, brows furrowing now. "Whatever do you mean?" She glances to the left for a moment, before looking back to the Hag.. and her aged hand. "Do not be silly, how could you be expecting me? I have never been here before.. don't act like you knew that." She huffs, but her curiosity was getting the better of her. She stares down at the chair, and after a short moment of thought she steps forward and sits down leaning onto the table in front. "You are curious woman.. What is it you know of me?" She questions tilting her head. (( I hope I don't actually have to respond with an entire description of this character's storm, I assumed it was only an emote response.
