All Is Fair in Hate

"Where is the inn?" You ask, trying hard to recollect if you even remember an inn or anything at all.
"Where's the inn? Right here of course! What's the matter with you? You came here a few weeks ago all ready to run off and look for help and now your back without a clue where you are?" The woman set down her knitting and looked up with large, glassy blue eyes. You would have thought she were blind if not for the fact she was scrutinizing every inch of you with those eyes.
"I... I don't remember being here. I don't remember anything." You furrow your brow and continue to rack your memory for some inkling of information.
"Don't remember anything? Well now that's a predicament." She leaned back into her chair, sympathy flashing over her blue eyes.

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