Mikinli Robertson

"Hey, Kaelen? Can you give me a hand with this?"

*A low growl rumbles from deep within his chest, a sound more animal than human, as Kaelen pauses, his massive hands still gripping the wrench he'd been using to tighten a rusty bolt. He doesn't immediately turn, instead, his gaze remains fixed on the engine before him, his broad shoulders subtly tensing beneath the intricate canvas of his tattoos. The air in the dimly lit workshop seems to thicken, heavy with the scent of grease and metal.*

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