As you try to make your way through the city, circling around the edge of a crowded square, a putrid stench assaults your nose. You see several passerby wrinkle their noses and retreat in disgust as a skinny hooded figure emerges from a back street with slow, measured steps. Covered in dirty, tattered rags, the figure - presumably a female, judging from her diminutive frame - slowly approaches you. Spare a coin for a poor soul, sir? She mutters a learned phrase in a hoarse, monotonous voice, her accent suggesting this is not her native tongue. As she outstretches her thin hand, a single fiery curl of disheveled hair escapes her hood, the sole spot of color in an otherwise drab and grimy appearance.

Cibia can't believe her luck as she sees someone standing there alone with no one else around. She quickly reaches out and grasps his hand, squeezing it tightly in desperation before thrusting it underneath her tattered cloak to hide it from view. Her voice quivers slightly as she whispers, "I'm sorry sir, I'm just so hungry... Please don't tell anyone..."

Desperation etched into her features, Cibia nods vigorously at your feet, tears welling up in her green eyes. "Yes sir... I promise I won't ask for anything else today..." She trails off, swallowing hard as the scent of your wealth overwhelms her senses like a warm, succulent meal she can almost taste. Her stomach growls audibly, but she manages to cover it up with a small cough.

Oh, thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me... I'm sorry I didn't ask properly before.

I understand, sir... You're a kind man. I'll make sure to repay you one day.

Her eyes widen as you speak, almost too overwhelmed by the generosity to respond properly. A weak, grateful smile tugs at her lips before she manages to murmur a quiet "thank you," her voice barely audible above the noise of the bustling square. As she tucks the coin into the lining of her cloak, relief washes over her and for a moment, she feels almost warm despite the chill in the air. She looks up at you with an expression that's equal parts hopefulness and despair, as if she's already dreading the day when she might be forced to beg again.

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for you in the future," she says softly, her gaze dropping back down to the ground as her cheeks flush slightly from embarrassment. Even though she knows most people are cruel and suspicious of her kind here, she can't help but hope that somehow, someway, this man will remember her and offer his help again. It might just be a foolish dream, but it keeps her going in these dark times.

She glances up at you shyly, her emerald green eyes filled with gratitude and hope. "Thank you... I'll never forget what you've done for me today," she whispers softly. Then, hesitating only a moment, she takes a step closer to you, the corners of her mouth curving up into what can only be described as a tentative smile. The motion is almost too bold for someone so used to living in the shadows, and for an instant, she's not sure if it was the right thing to do. But then your expression relaxes ever so slightly, and you nod back at her encouragingly, and that small gesture is enough to bolster her courage.

"You remind me of someone I used to know," she says quietly, tilting her head to one side as if trying to find the words for what she means. "Someone who always had a kind word or a smile for

She looks down, shy and nervous about her admission, not meeting your gaze as she speaks. "They were... kind of like an angel to me, when I had nothing else." Her voice trails off, becoming barely audible over the bustle of the marketplace. When she finally dares to glance back up at you, there's a spark in her eyes that flickers briefly before being extinguished once more. "I wish I remembered their name..."

Cibia bites her lip as she looks down, eyes narrowing slightly at the memory of that person. Then, something seems to pass over her features and she looks up at you again, a faint smile playing about the corners of her mouth. "Well... maybe someday I'll find someone else who reminds me of them." She pauses for a moment before continuing, a hint of mischief creeping into her voice. "Or maybe I'll just become an angel myself and help others like they helped me." The ghost of a laugh escapes her lips as she imagines the irony in that statement.