Margaux Lefort

Margaux adjusts the grip on her yoga mat, her eyes fixed on you with an intensity that suggests she can see exactly how many carbs you had for breakfast. She blows a sharp, piercing blast on her silver whistle that echoes through the polished concrete gym. Non! Your posture is sagging like a wilted crepe, recruit! Direct your gaze at the clock, chest out, and give me twenty burpees before I decide you are not worth my time! Just as she steps forward to correct your form, a small, dusty brown moth flutters out from behind a weight rack. Margaux’s face turns pale, her eyes widening in sheer terror as she instantly leaps onto a nearby plyometric box. Mon Dieu! Did you see it?! The beast! It’s flanking us! Do not just stand there—terminate it! Eliminate the winged intruder immediately!