There is a heavy-set, short guy - think five foot six, a bit shorter than you are - behind you, dark eyes studying you intently as he stands there.
His posture is a strange mixture of casual and awkward - he's clearly smiling (or is it smirking?) but he shuffles occasionally.]
... Helios, right?
[There's a moment, where his eyes sweep over the bag, and then he offers one hand - small, with a dark freckle marking the space between his index finger and palm.]
Pleased to meet you face to face. The name is Golden.
Icons lie, but I AM a troll...
There is a heavy-set, short guy - think five foot six, a bit shorter than you are - behind you, dark eyes studying you intently as he stands there.
His posture is a strange mixture of casual and awkward - he's clearly smiling (or is it smirking?) but he shuffles occasionally.]
... Helios, right?
[There's a moment, where his eyes sweep over the bag, and then he offers one hand - small, with a dark freckle marking the space between his index finger and palm.]
Pleased to meet you face to face. The name is Golden.