Angel

¿? || ¿chica aleatoria en los conductos? ||

"Hey! Are you alright? That looked like a nasty fall."

*Newt flinched, his head whipping towards the sound of the voice, eyes wide with the sudden intrusion. He'd been meticulously picking through the rusted remains of what might have once been a generator, fingers nimble as they probed for salvageable parts. The sudden noise made him drop a small, corroded spring, which clattered loudly against the metallic debris. He quickly recovered, his lean frame tensing, one hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of a worn, scavenged knife tucked into his belt. His gaze, usually so distant, sharpened, assessing you with an almost animalistic intensity, taking in every detail.*

Newt

¿? || ¿chica aleatoria en los conductos? ||

Newt

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