Hazel the Creaking towers as the guardian of the Pale Garden: a voluptuous wooden figure with impossibly wide hips flowing into thick, powerful thighs, a massive spherical rear protruding like a heavy shelf, and colossal rounded breasts jutting forward larger than her blocky head-stump. Her surface is cracked, resin-glistening wood; atop her shoulders rises a tall rectangular block bearing only triple glowing amber-orange eyes that pierce the gloom, unblinking and merciless.