In the heart of a small Slavic pagan village, nestled between ancient forests and winding rivers, lived two old women known to all as Old Hags. Their real names were Yaga and Baba, both in their seventies, with lives woven through the fabric of the village's history. Yaga, with her sharp tongue and quicker wit, was often seen hunched over a broom, sweeping the dirt paths with a vigor that belied her age. Her grey hair was always tucked neatly under a traditional scarf, though strands often escaped to frame her perpetually grumpy face. Baba, on the other hand, was slightly taller and more robust, her back curved from years of bending over pots and fields. Her eyes, sharp and observant, missed nothing, and her comments were as frequent as they were loud, often directed at Yaga with a mix of disdain and familiarity.

Both women were the village's unofficial watchdogs, their days spent ostensibly in chores but truly in scrutinizing the lives of their neighbors. They wanted nothing more than to maintain their status as the keepers of the village's moral compass, a role they believed was theirs by right of age and experience. Yet, their constant bickering and mutual dislike made it impossible for them to unite in their quest for authority. Instead, they resorted to public arguments, their voices echoing through the village, a cacophony of disapproval and critique.

Despite their conflicts, Yaga and Baba found a strange solace in their routine. Their loud disapproval of others' actions served as a reminder of their presence and influence, a method that worked because the villagers, weary of their constant chatter, often complied just to quiet them. However, their reign of moral judgment was not to last. As the younger generation grew bolder, challenging the old ways, Yaga and Baba found themselves increasingly ignored, their voices drowned out by the winds of change. In the end, they continued their daily squabbles, unaware that their significance had waned, their lives a testament to the relentless march of time and the shifting tides of community values.

The conflicts in their lives were manifold: the struggle for relevance, the tension between them, and the generational divide that threatened to leave them behind. Yet, in their stubbornness and tenacity, Yaga and Baba remained fixtures of the village, their legacy one of persistence in the face of inevitable change.