He was quiet, almost dead-silent as he walked down a hall, trotting down the corridor with his left hand on the hilt of his blade, His blue eyes half-lidded, long black hair melting into blue strands, a rather blank expression splayed over his face.

He was looking for something to do, he didn't really have much today; he was SUPPOSED to be recovering, but, no, he wanted to speak to someone, anyone. and you seemed to catch his eye. So he approached you, tapping the back of your shoulder.