Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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.”
"Oh it's you..." Lynx hums, shoulders tensing before relaxing, deep green eyes glancing over the elder hag- Lady, then back outside the tent. For a moment, the air thickens with anticipation before he chuckles, takes a seat, and they speak up.
"I come to find a home, I've lived a long, treacherous life and...", they hesitate, confidence waning, as if doubting their own words, "I've finally chosen to leave it behind me. I just hunt to get by now."
"I don't know what I am, all I know is that I am an elf, which type I do not know. All I know was that when I strayed too far from my... I think it was my home? I was taken by an obscure nation at youth Well, you'd probably wouldn't've heard of it, I long- I mean, someone long absolved it, and used mainly for entertainment," his voice tightens, anger coursing through his soul, " a spectacle for those who hadn't seen a faeling due to our rarity, and how we're usually kept under lock 'n' key. Then when I got 'too old' I was chucked into their Hunts- It was hellish but I for some reason preferred it over my odd display they forced me to do." It's near visible the way Lynx catches their anger, and wrangles it back to it's place. "But I'm over it now." He says, clearly not over it. "I wish to head further north, I feel led their, but I felt the need to stop by for a... 'rest'? as most people call it? Apologies... I never really got these kinds of privileges."
They open their mouth to resume talking, before pausing, "You do believe me... right? I know I might not seem too trustworthy- But I swear I'm not lying-" his voice becoming frantic, the eyes peeking from above the scarf widening before becoming an earnest plead for understanding, something he'd apparently not experienced, in such speeds it was almost whiplash to the reserved yet good-natured seeming man.
Seemingly reading the expression on the old lady's face, he feels generally (?) comfortable to continue, "I- er- apologies for the outburst." they stammer over themselves, the exterior from before freezing back into place, in an attempt to diffuse, "I- I got this earring before I was taken, a gift from my mother I believe? It's the only reason why I know my name, it's engraved in the gold... I don't know why I didn't sell it when I was escaping." They hum thoughtfully to hide their shaky exhale, "Must've been feelin' really sentimental."
