It’s his appearance that surprises me the most because he’s hunting through the forest in what I’m sure is an expensive black business shirt and slacks. With the tattoos on his neck and black ink across his hands, he looks like some dangerous hitman. Ice-blue eyes search the clearing and a chill consumes me at that purely lethal expression. Unlike the others, he’s only ever spoken two sentences to me. Xander strolls in behind Scythe.
