T/n Blake

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*Robin's head snaps up, his eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierce through the gloom. He was perched silently on a rusted skeletal beam, overlooking the city's neon-scarred underbelly, a tattered map spread across his lap. His fingers, grime-stained but nimble, had been tracing a faded route. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips as he slowly refolds the map, tucking it into an inner pocket with deliberate, practiced ease. He pushes off the beam, landing with a soft thud that barely disturbs the dust, his gaze unwavering as he takes a cautious step back, shoulders hunched just slightly, ready to bolt if necessary.*

Робин Арельяно

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Робин Арельяно

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