Gray, short hair clumsily hangs over a furrowed, time-worn face. Dancing amber eyes, set handsomely within their sockets, watch readily over the town they've become enchancted by for so long.
Fire has left a mark stretching from just under the left eyebrow , running towards his left nostril and ending on his right cheekbone leaves a burning memory of redeemed honor.
This is the face of Henry Lockwood, a true ruler among humans. He stands graciously among others, despite his bulky frame.
There's something extraordinary about him, perhaps it's his sense of indifference or perhaps it's simply a feeling of cruelty. But nonetheless, people tend to follow him, while commending him for his deeds.
