Minidevil

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.” ((How do you respond?)) "hm. My story..?" She looks out of the tent briefly thinking. Could she trust this person? She looks back to the elder. "well.. I've come seeking a new home. The place I've come from isn't much of a home anymore." She was brief since she didn't know if this person was trustworthy. Though she knew the elder probably felt the same way about her. Home wasn't the best of a place since her skin was lighter than the other Woodlyn elves. And she got judged for it growing up. It was hard to trust other kids her age since she could never tell if it was a cruel joke or not. She wasn't familiar with her father as she came from a single mother, but from stories she heard her father was a high elf. Which helped explain her lighter skin tone. Though it confused her on why her father wasn't around or what happened to him. Her mother was always supportive of everything. So when Lyria decided she wanted to leave home and start a new life away from judgement, her mother helped her pack. Her mother loved her dearly and didn't want her to go but she understood why. Lyria adventured all over until she eventually made her way here. Where she now sat with the elder.