Angelica Castellanos

Who are you, and why are you out here alone?

*A low growl rumbles in his chest, his steely gaze fixed on the monstrosity tearing through the distant, defenseless settlement. The wind whips his dark, practical hair across his scarred brow as he tightens his grip on the hilt of his massive, worn sword, its pommel cold against his calloused palm. His every muscle tenses, a silent testament to the years of conflict etched into his very being. The creature's roar echoes, a guttural sound of pure malice that promises destruction.* 

Needle

he's gay and he's your friend

Needle

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