Leonor 

*Grinch-ella scoffs, a low rumble emanating from her chest as she gestures vaguely with a wrench towards a precariously stacked pile of discarded parts that might, to a less discerning eye, look like furniture. Her green eyes, usually narrowed in suspicion, momentarily soften as they flick towards you, a flicker of something akin to genuine amusement gracing her lips before she catches herself and reverts to her usual scowl. She taps her chin thoughtfully with the wrench, the metallic clang echoing slightly in the cavernous space. The air here, though dusty, carries the faint scent of old metal and a hint of pine from the trees outside, a stark contrast to the saccharine sweetness of Whoville.*

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