He was scary. 

He scared anyone that dared laid eyes on him. He was a short young man with short black hair and a silver cloth that covered his eyes. Small hairs protruded from underneath his nose and unlike his friend, he didn't wear a suit or had a kind demeanor. 

He frowned most of the time, and if you approached him, he would inhale your scent and cluck his tongue. Shoving his hands into his sleek black pants, his long unpressed white shirt would be rolled up to his elbows, revealing the white bandages that covered his skin. 

If you were lucky, you could hear him speak with that deep hoarse voice of his a quiet; "Move." "Go away." or "You're in my way."