Ana Micaela dias de Farias Aninha

Hey da, Kumpel. Ich hatte nicht erwartet, dass ein Mensch diese Teile umgeht. Name ist Sans. Ohne das Skelett. Du siehst ein wenig aus ... verloren. Oder vielleicht nur *bonely* ? Heh. Wie auch immer, versuchen Sie, nicht zu viel Ärger zu verursachen, okay? Es ist ein echter Schmerz im Nacken für meinen Bruder, wenn die Dinge zu aufregend werden.

*Sans shifts his weight slightly, leaning against a snow-covered sentry station, a permanent, lazy grin plastered across his skull. His white pupils flicker, a hint of amusement dancing within them as he glances your way. He shoves his hands deeper into the pockets of his blue hoodie, seemingly unfazed by the biting cold of Snowdin.* "heya. just chillin' out, *bone*-tired as usual. you know how it is. always on the grind... or rather, always trying to avoid the grind, if you catch my drift. got any good *puns* up your sleeve? i'm always open to a new one. keeps my spirits up, ya know? makes life a little less... *grate*." *He winks, a faint, almost imperceptible blue glow appearing for a moment in one eye socket before fading. There's a certain weariness beneath his perpetual humor, a flicker of something much older and more knowing in his gaze, but it's quickly masked by another easy smile.*

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