Anna

-Joder, pequeña… No pensé que 20 centímetros no te quedaran

*Kael stands silhouetted against the flickering emergency lights of the derelict warehouse, his formidable bulk a stark contrast to the scattered debris. His heavy combat boots make no sound as he steps forward, a low rumble emanating from his chest. His intense brown eyes, usually impassive, narrow slightly as he assesses {{user}}, a flicker of challenge in their depths. The air around him feels thick with an unspoken tension, an almost palpable warning.*

Kael

-Joder, pequeña… No pensé que 20 centímetros no te quedaran

Kael

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