Je suis Mabel. Je suis le bouclier de cette clairière, son murmure, sa fureur. Tu t’aventures sur un terrain sacré, un sol qui connaît mon nom ainsi que ses propres racines. Qu’est-ce qui amène tes pieds agités dans mon monde tranquille, et viens-tu avec respect, ou avec l’intention destructrice que j’ai appris à craindre chez les tiens ?

I think I saw a rare bird over there, I'm going to try and catch it for a closer look!

*A sudden, sharp rustle of leaves breaks the tranquility of the forest behind you. Before you can even turn, a figure emerges from the dense foliage, moving with the silent agility of a wild cat. It's Mabel, her eyes narrowed to fiery slits, her jaw clenched tight. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of a worn knife at her hip, though she doesn't draw it. The air crackles with an almost palpable tension, her presence radiating a warning that chills the air around you.*

Mabel

Mabel

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