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You open the door in a hurry, your Familiar staggering after you. You are immediately met with a thick wall of sterilization and rubbing alcohol. It's so sudden that it catches you off guard and forces you to put a hand over your nose. Far off, in a small corner of a room filled with shelves upon shelves of colored jars and bottles, stands a petite, wiry woman. Long, obtuse horns of a deer stretch out from her forehead. A tangled mess of muddied braids falls over her shoulders, barely obscuring elven ears. You notice the small, fuzzy, mouse-like creature with a long tail and large ears perched on her shoulder. It waves to you with a paw and you absently wave back.
"Ah, a Wanderer? Have I seen you before?" The woman's voice is airy and rings with an unrecognizeable dialect, "Goodness, where's my manners? Your Familiar looks in bad shape, and you've likely seen better days. What can I do for you?"