A young girl greeted you at the door you knocked on. "Welcome, please come in," she said. You'd only wanted to meet her briefly, and see what her story was.
She had strange golden yellow eyes, and her hair, you decided, was grey-green in color. Even her ear were strange - they were pointy. Otherwise, her angular features were perhaps normal-looking.
"I'm known as Denza-Le," she told you, and you likewise told her your name. You noticed many pretty mobiles hanging from the high stone ceiling. There were some of birds from some light wood material and origami fishes of pretty paper. There were even two of insects crafted from metal wire. Most distinct, though, was the intricate mobile hanging from the center. In had some form of dragon crafted out of clay, and painted pretty colors. Their wings were stretched out, and by the looks of it, were made out of real feathers. The little clay dragons swirled amongst small glittering crystals, as if flying at night in the stars. The whole mobile rotated slowly, as the heated air from several big candles below it rose up.
Denza-le seemed very pleased that you liked it. "It took me a long time to make that. But I liked doing it. I was almost in a sort of trance. I think it means something," she said, and you agree.
Your nose was being tickled by some odor. You sniffed a few times, and Denza-le just watched you, wondering what you were doing. Something was burning, and it was very strong now. You stepped around Denza-le, just to see that a little spark from the fireplace had landed on the rug and was burning a hole through it. "Oh my!" Denza-le reacted, and grabbed a fistful of wet dirt from a nearby plant pot, and smothered the burning hole with it. "Oh goodness, I'm going to be the death of myself!" she said, with some self-loathing. "I need someone around with a ggod sense of smell," she turned to you to explain. "I just have a very poor sense of smell, so I didn't smell anything burning. The only way I'd smell something is if I got perfume squirted up my nose," she grummbled.
You try to comfort her that not being able to smell didn't make her less of a person. You tried to explain that there weren't really many smells in this cold land anyway, except maybe odors she wouldn't want to smell anyway. You made a silly gesture of holding your nose and squinting up your face, and she laughed. "Oh thanks! Now I should clean up this mess!"
You offered to help but she refused. "You've helped enough!" and she shooed you from her cave-home.