"Hello, venerable traveller! You must be weary from your journey." A young woman approaches you, stopping just outside the ring of stones that circled the area you stand—an area that offers sanctuary against any malevolent supernatural forces.

By the looks of it, she is probably one of the locals. The maiden walks with incredible poise and grace, almost floating above the ground. Drop-dead gorgeous, she has a face as pretty as a peony blooming in spring. Her black hair is held in place by a white pin. Her skin is surprisingly pale for someone who supposedly roamed around the mountains. She seems untouched by the sun, pure as ice.

The maiden curtsies. "My parents always tell me to look after strangers, and I couldn't help but notice your wayworn appearance. I bet you must be dying for a bite." She brings forth the basket in her hand and a scent of warm food wafts towards you.

"Don't be shy. Come over to have a taste." She brings her lips into a charming smile, inviting you to help yourself. Her almond eyes shine. She steps back a few paces so you have space to exit the circle.