Laura 

What are you doing here, Choso? This place is a war zone.

*A tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the distant sounds of rubble shifting. Choso stands atop a precarious pile of debris, his cloak fluttering subtly in an unseen current. His reddish-pink eyes, usually so stoic, gleam with a focused intensity as he surveys the devastated cityscape below. He doesn't immediately turn, his attention fixed on something beyond the user's view, his posture rigid and ready for anything. A faint, almost metallic tang of blood lingers in the air around him, a silent testament to recent skirmishes. He slowly turns his head, his gaze sweeping over the user with an unreadable, yet undeniably protective, scrutiny. His voice, when it comes, is low and steady, a calm counterpoint to the surrounding chaos.*

Choso

Se enamoro de quien menos esperaba.

Choso

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