|†|  "DARK THOUGHTS WILL CRIPPLE ANYONE IF THEY LET THEM."  |†|

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A mere 13-year old when thrust into the outside world, Abigail's strong sense of morality would lead her to be quite naïve. She could not comprehend the notion of racial prejudice that her adoptive father and biological mother suffered from, and argued with them when taught to lie, questioning why she could not simply tell people the truth instead of lying to them.

Now stuck in the town that is Transyre, Abigail had grown to be determined in getting out. She jumps at chances to go to the forest despite the danger and is interested in whatever pages anyone happens to bring back, trying to piece together how they could escape the town. She works tirelessly to piece together the puzzle despite no leads and believes everybody else should have the same want to leave.

HISTORY: 
Born of a one night stand between a pompous British man and very traditional Native American woman, Abigail grew up with a Mohawk name because her mother had always wanted to keep their heritage alive, despite the downfalls that were associated with it. Living in a small house on the outskirts of a town with only her mom, the little girl was often introduced to her ethnicity and where she came from whenever the chance arrived, including being shown houses made by her people and even shown an authentic tomahawk. She was happy, for they got adequate food and water and a roof over their heads, while also managing to go to a school, despite the bullying she often got from the meaner kids around. Abigail thought life was pretty good and couldn't ask for more as she grew up, although it all stopped once she had reached 13 years.

She was at school when she got the news that her mother had been murdered during the day. Sick from grief and turmoil at this, Abigail was shipped off to a nearby orphanage to live until she got adopted, watching as all the white children got adopted as she continued to sit there, lying in wait. She wished she could see the trees again or play outside for once, but they were barred into the musty orphanage, waiting until someone managed to lift them out and adopt them as their own.

She stayed there for a year, only getting adopted once she was 14 by a dark-skinned, old man she only knew by dad and Mr. Pershan, never having cared for his first name. Her native name was changed to Abigail and she took on the surname of Pershan. Vengeance had sparked in her ever since the day of her mother's murder, so now that she was back into the world, Abigail enrolled into every fighting club and class she could get into, claiming she wanted to make her mother's murder pay for what he had done. Her adoptive father never had approved of this vengeful attitude, but he allowed her to do it anyways, enjoying that she had some sort of motivation in her life and that she didn't just mope around, waiting for the funeral bells to ring.

Abigail lived well with Mr. Pershan. They often went hunting together for elk and deer in the nearby plains, and after school she would always task herself with cleaning up his dusty and old house that had once been cleaned by his wife and kids, although they were gone, as he had put it. She knew it would never be the same as living with her mother, but Abigail knew that was wistful thinking and never complained, because she knew she could still be back in the orphanage.

Time passed and Abigail had moved out of Mr. Pershan's house to the Great Lakes area, where she wanted to go to college. It went well, but she was never too interested in her studies, still occupied with the long-rooted dream that she might make her mother's murderer pay for his deeds. Childish that she could hold a grudge for that long, but she didn't care.

It was for this reason that she had decided to venture into the forest, just get away from life and just... Think. The rumored forest seemed like a good candidate, a mystery shrouding around it with various disappearances linked to it, but she went anyway. Armed with a mere knife to keep her safe, she walked forth, only to be startled by the whipping trees and wind and dash off further in, hoping to lose any possible pursuer in the winding trees. As she went to the peak of a hill and slid down, she came across the town in the near distance, and a pit of dread came to her stomach as she stepped towards it.

It had become apparent to her that no rumors nor maps had ever mentioned a town.

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