Silvery-locks partially shroud this figures visage. On either side of his head are a set of short and stubby tapered ears, apparently clipped that way. The tone of his skin bears resemblance to the ashen flakes blown from Redhorne Mountain, and the way he stares at you with those cold, obsidian daggers sends a chill up your spine. His nose appears to have broken and healed near the bridge, slightly offsetting the pointed tip, while a smirk reveals bits of his razor-sharp teeth. A stygian fabric clings loosely to his torso and limbs, blurring his silhouette against the background.