Mystique vaguely enjoys walking through the gardens. It's quiet. It allows her time to think. Half the inhabitants in the mansion drive her utterly bonkers already, and the other half she can hardly bother to care about. At least when she's out here she can have some time to herself.

Needless to say, she's not enjoying Wonderland much. The snow isn't helping, either. Nothing about this place is helping, aside from toying with the others here and there.

She sighs. What has become of her life?