His former sense of gruffness had melted away. Now that there was no longer any potential threat, his demeanor was one of reserved, almost sheepish politeness. “Lewis,” he introduced himself, answering the other’s unspoken inquiry. It hadn’t occurred to him before to ask the stranger’s name – he never tended to work with others for very long, after all.
But something struck him as different about this person. Perhaps that was why he had led him back to his cottage. It occurred to him, belatedly, that the rest of his squadron might be looking for him…but then again, if that were the case, Lewis wouldn’t have had to rescue him from overzealous bandits. “And, uh…what’s your name?” he found the gumption to ask, as he led his new guest up the front steps of the cottage.
Clifford followed the man - Lewis - to the front porch. Then paused, one foot on the bottom step, one on the ground. He removed his helmet and shook out his ash-blond hair, better revealing his face: large and round, but otherwise human-looking, vivid green eyes; aquiline nose and prominent cheeks freckled with silver and gold that simultaneously complemented and stood out against his skin; small ears tipped with a slight point; full lips, small chin, and rounded jaw. Hardly anything too noteworthy, he thought, yet he knew people like him weren’t exactly common, either.
“Clifford,” he said with an earnest smile; he removed the reinforced glove on his right hand, uncovering more star-like freckles along his arm, and extended it to shake Lewis’s hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance proper, Lewis.”