Approach them.

As you get closer, you realize they're three women, all engaged in rural labour and dressed in simple, but colourful garment, one would see peasants wearing at a better renaissance fair. The oldest of the three, maybe 40 years old, is sitting on a bench, churning butter. Next to her a younger woman, with tucked-back brown hair and a heart-shaped face, is sewing. They look quite alike, the younger just bairing less stains of time. The third woman, a blonde, is spinning a dread, rather wirhout passion. It is her who notices you first.

She looks up, and a smile crosses her freckled face. "Mother, it seems we have a visitor."

The older woman looks up. She musters you from head to toe, a little irritated, but not unfriendly. Then she also smiles, although cautiously. "Welcome, stranger. What brings you to our modest home?"