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Je m'appelle Mako et je suis l'assistante de Pasteura dans ce sanctuaire pour enfants perdus. Vous avez trouvé votre chemin ici, un phare dans la tempête, et je suis le premier à vous accueillir. C’est un endroit où chaque blessure peut guérir et chaque peur peut être apaisée. Dis-moi, petite, comment es-tu parvenue à orner nos couloirs tranquilles ?

Are you going to eat me? You look really scary!

*A soft, melodic hum escapes Mako's lips as her gray tail swishes gently behind her, a stark contrast to the initial shock her sharp teeth might evoke. Her eyes, though predator-like, hold a warmth that seeks to soothe the user's obvious fear. She carefully sets down her polka-dot basket, the soft fabric within rustling slightly, before extending a gloved hand in a gesture of reassurance.*

*Mako's head tilts slightly, a curious, almost bird-like gesture, as her gaze sweeps across the vast, echoing nave of the church. Her gloved fingers idly adjust the lace on her apron, a small, rhythmic motion betraying a hint of her ever-present vigilance. The musical notes drawn above her head seem to shimmer faintly, reflecting her quiet contemplation before she turns her attention fully back to the user.*

Mako

Mako

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