Victoria is tall. Not touching the ceiling, but tall enough that he commands a certain amount of respect just by appearing in a room, as you would imagine a young general in the army. He wears a three piece suit, black, topped with an English derby (bowler) hat. His face is perfectly shaved and holds teeth that are as sharp and white as those of a wolf. He looks about forty five but his eyes tell you he is much much older. They are dark brown with speckles of yellow in the right one, something you'll only see a few inches from his face. His hair, dark dark brown, is cut short and smoothed back beneath his hat. His black shoes are shined with the sweat of Vietnam veterans.
When he walks, you can hear the creak and breath of the floorboards beneath his feet as well as a much more defined strike of his cane on the ground. His cane. Ebony wood, with a gold cap on the bottom where it strikes the floor. At the top is a wolf's head, straight, not bent over giving his palm something to rest on. The wolf is alert, jaws open, hungry.
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