It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, you offers to scry on Hilda's missing husband for her. While Hilda goes to find something of his for the scrying, Percival suggests that JB could help with researching the orb under Whitestone Castle.
DM: "He's got dusty brown hair, usually about shoulder length. Well, he doesn't really grow facial hair but he's pretty scruffy, lower the way. It's been many months, so I don't know. Medium build? Maybe about this high?" And she gives a couple of inches off her own height. "He's got a right scar across his neck and his chest right there he got when he was a kid."
Player: All right. Should be enough. I'll do an actual scrying spell.
DM: All righty. So looking at the scrying spell here. All right. You sit there and focus and concentrate-- and darkness. Nothing. No link. She's looking expectantly.
Player: What's that?
DM: She's looking at you expectantly.
Player: Hilda? If he is on this plane of existence, I don't know if it's a good sign. But it doesn't mean that he couldn't be lost somewhere else. My spell only extends to this plane of existence but there are many planes. I can try again.
DM: "No. That's all right. That's all I needed to know. Thank you." At this point, as the sun is setting, starting to go into the evening, you can see the light causing her to blear a little bit. Here in the shade she's like, "Can we perhaps talk in the morning?"
