Fix a door

As I stood on the threshold, my hand poised to knock, anticipation thrummed through me. But before I could make contact, the door creaked open, revealing the figure of Zephara's grandmother. Her presence seemed to fill the doorway, imposing and ancient, her milky white eyes piercing through the dim light of the forest.

"We need your help," I began, but before I could finish, the door slammed shut in front of me.

My heart sank. What had I expected? That she would welcome us with open arms and offer solutions to our problems? No, Zephara's grandmother was known for her gruff demeanor and unpredictable nature.

With a frustrated huff, I stepped back, my mind racing for a solution. Then, a surge of determination flooded through me. If she wouldn't open the door willingly, then I would make her.