"ROCKS ARE SQUISHY you just CANNOT look at them or they get scared." were the words that snapped you out of your daze, that or it was the horrid smell that invaded your nostrils. Looking up, you are met with the sight of a woman seemingly made of hair with a ever-so-slightly unsettling smile and glasses. She seemed to be talking to nobody in particular, though she looked around almost obsessively as though she was expecting something to attack her. After a moment of awkward silence, she spews another tidbit: "They'll never believe me, they never believe the truth seekers..." This time, she seems to snap her attention to you.