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?)) The young girl jolts back, surprised by the hag speaking, she was too distracted looking around the tent and observing all the little knick-knacks and tears to notice her presence. She straightens her back, puffs her chest out, and dusts her dress before facing the hag and awkwardly sinking down in the cushion. "I did not mean to wander this far, it wasn't my intention to get here..." the young girl says, bashfully playing with the ribbons tied at the end of her braid. " It gets suffocating being in the same place for too long, sometimes I need a change of scenery." she clears her throat in between words " I'd tell you my story, but you look like you have plenty much better ones to tell, can you indulge me first?". She stares at the hag, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
