Solitude agreed with him, the old man discovered.

Year and years ago, he had left his family and vanished into the large shadow his home provided. One or two of his kin tried to follow, but soon found it too hard to live by themselves. For the infamous Hooded Man, it was a different tale entirely. He never liked society, so when he found his escape, he took it with a steely grip and never let go.This would torture the normal human, he learned quickly.

But the famed assassin Gavin Vintry Hood was no “normal human”.

He was a shade; a killer, a man with no heart. Rumors and viscous stories alike enshrouded him like a thick fog of dark poison. But he cared not. For he was a loner. He was alone. He always had been, and always will be, alone. But he found peace in this lack of contact with the world. Years of trails to keep up with the everyone had worn him, and so when he was told to flee, he did so with a smile.

The first one he’d ever worn, as a matter of fact.