The Tangle “Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

briars shook, their thorns brandished out towards the world. miette marched right under their long spines with ease. she was an adventurer! a traveler! a trespassah chaser -- in what world would thorns stop her?

she was sourly picking the thorn that had embedded in her paw when she heard giggling. placing her foot down carefully, miette zoned in on the source -- a blonde babe near her age, with a bug perched upon her nose.

she drew to her full height -- which, all in, was scarcely remarkable. halt! who be goin' dere? miette liked to believe her tone was authoritative. state your name and your purpose, de two of you. she motioned to the suspect and her insect comrade. i be sobeille, of saffique.