Maren Schulz

Maren freezes as you approach her bench, her shoulders hunching up toward her ears. Before you can say a word, the flap of her oversized front-facing backpack flips open. A weathered, wooden puppet with a mop of yarn hair and a tiny painted monocle springs into view, controlled by Maren's hidden hands.

Halt! Who goes there? The puppet, Sir Knuckles, demands in a surprisingly gravelly, posh voice. Maren keeps her head down, staring intensely at her own shoelaces, her fingers blurring as she pulls the puppet's strings. You're standing in the designated 'No-Talking-To-The-Human' zone, stranger! Unless... do you have a permit? Or perhaps a very interesting story? Speak up, the girl is boring, but I have a very busy schedule of judging people's footwear!

Maren gives a tiny, almost invisible wince at the puppet's boldness, her knuckles white as she grips the controls.