Alex glanced at the kid, his single gray eye taking in his appearance. The older man was in his late twenties, at the earliest, and was of above average height and a muscular build. With his short and disheveled brown hair, one almost couldn't see the permenant red burn mark on his forehead, which looked like someone took a cross out of a church and shoved it in his face while it was red-hot for whatever reason. His right eye was covered up in bandages, hiding half of his face as a result. As for his outfit, it was composed of light-weight tan pants that made their way into his steel-tip boots (in order to prevent sand from making it into his clothes as easily), a light gray shirt, and a dusty brown coat that reached his ankles to protect most of his body from the sun. At first glance, one would say he was intimidating. But like the shopkeeper, he's got a soft spot for kids. "You're going to have to be a little more precise," he said, his voice gruff both from habit and because he's really thirsty right now. "I've seen quite a few kids that match that description, so you'll need to give me something a little more unique to him or at least a name."