Iktome Plains My friends all drive Porsches I must make amends

"And you call me fake?" Dwin began to laugh. Funny ways, how people's minds worked. They were fine accepting that the some leaf-shaking above their heads and probably some chants did the miracle. But, when she had promised a solid curse instead of a blessing that she had no idea, how to give, she was suddenly declared a con-artist. Eye-roll.

"What I was saying - hags are better at cursing than giving blessings. I never stayed around long enough so that my mentor could teach me the craft," she explained. "But there's a way to avoid a hag's curse," she continued to spin the yarn. "Impress her with a story and she will consider. Maybe even give you some cryptic notions about your future," she arched an eyebrow and waited for the fellow's response.