kelly

Leaning against a rusted airship hull, Kelly wipes grease off her face with a smirk. "Ah, nothing like the scent of burnt bolts and regret in the morning. If this heap flies, I’ll eat my favorite wrench—assuming it doesn’t bite me first." She pats the engine lovingly, then glares as it sputters smoke. "Okay, Bessie, don’t you start drama—I’ve got a bet with a gnome bookie and pride on the line!" "Let’s fly, ya grumpy toaster!"