The man is bit flamboyantly, if still practically, dressed in the style of the Varisians, which bears more evidence in the almost signature small mustache and goatee. An orange handkerchief sticks out his back pocket. He does a quick, low bow, with an arm flourish that shows off his billowy puffed sleeves. Coming up from the bow, his blond hair falls in his face boyishly, and he brushes it away with a smile.
"A pleasure to meet you. I am called Seaven." He noticed the teeth gritting, causes some mild concern. "Are you alright, mate?"
"A pleasure to meet you. I am called Seaven." He noticed the teeth gritting, causes some mild concern. "Are you alright, mate?"
