[u]Pulling down his hood in a shower of snow, the towering giant's cloak reveals an aged face, weathered from travel. Scars and wrinkles adorn the bearded face, the tanned and leathery skin stretched and molded from years of traveling. What little hair he had on the top of his head when he resided at the Dojo before is gone, but his beard has seemingly doubled in size to compensate for the loss of the other. Snow white in color, it covers a cheery face covered in wrinkles and marks, the cheeks dimpling at the lips as a wide smile stretches across his face. Dark blue eyes pear out from the wrinkled eye sockets, little embers seemingly dancing throughout as if at an elegant ball. Chuckling, he speaks in a soft but strong voice, aged and worn from years of use.[/u] "[i]That armor I'd recognize anywhere- That be the Dragon Slayer armor modeled after an old friend of mine... Ornstein was his name. The same goes for your weapon. If I had been a bit worse off for memory I would have thought you could have been he himself, but alas... I do not remember him being this short, nor a female. Now, I must ask you... Who are, you don such armor and not be of the same platoon as my old friend, hm?[/i]" [u]He bends over, his face coming closer to the helmet's mask as snow rains down from his broad frame. The unmistakeable sound of armor folding upon itself can be heard under the cloak, as if he wore a full suit in a storm like this despite his age.[/u]