He’s tied his shoulder-length white hair up into a knot out of the way, and I get a clear look at his not-frowning face for the first time. It’s aged with years of trouble. I can tell from the frown lines and shadows beneath his eyes, but his face also speaks of an experience the others don’t seem to grasp so heavily. Something about this man draws me in, something dark and twisted. I want to understand his pain, to revel in that darkness with him, to understand what kind of horrors this man can inflict.