rut

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.” Beau stared at the 'hag' as he eyed her up and down; a curious boy at heart, he'd look out the tent for a moment before answering the woman's question, raising a brow when she declare that his arrival was already "expected-" whatever that means. "..." He'd open his mouth, yet words couldn't come out. Choking on seemingly nothing for a moment, he'd blurt out: "Who else has been expecting me...?" It was a rather childish question, he'd know better than to answer a question with a question; he knew now as the hag was just as quiet as he was. After no response, he'd let out a frustrated sigh. "The only thing that's 'dingy' about this town is this tent. I just wanted to find something new- my, old place was boring." He'd seem rather proud at his answer, an ignorant grin tugging at his lips as he'd glare at the woman. What a brat. "A noticed a lot of- other humans, it's nice knowing I'm not alone, I guess. The forest is a nice place. The small- lil' cabin my parents had lived in was nice, and all," he'd pause, catching his breath as he'd turn towards the exit of the tent, "..." The man seemed as if he were some sort of dreamer, his little make-believe fantasies playing in his head as he'd gaze out the tent for a good couple of minutes. He'd continue, his gaze averted from the lady as if he couldn't bring himself to turn back. "I expect a lot from the people here," he'd snap back into reality, slowly turning towards the lady as he'd play with the sleeves on his tunic, "only problem is, I don't know what to expect." This attitude made the boy appear as if he were hard-headed, in a sense; he really was just lost in the world, though that didn't stop him from being the entitled brat he is now. Standing up, Beau would stare yet again at the old hag who had been at the back of the tent- to him, it was as if she had never left the back of the tent. He'd shudder, leaving before he'd announce that he was going to find interesting. "If I can't find anything worthwhile, I'll just make it myself."