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.”
Not knowing who the old hag is or if she's a person I can trust, I glance at the cushion hesitantly, but I decide to take the offer.
"I'll share some of mine, if you share some of yours," I take a sip out of my flask "These men came, with ill intent. My father told me to run, that they were looking for me and that he and my brother would be fine. That was a lie. I ran like he told me to, like a coward, and they stayed behind and got slaughtered. And now I'm just running until it feels right to stop.".
