Heimdall sat at the tavern’s bar with his cloak covering most of his face. he looked down at his half downed glass of alcohol before noticing a pair of eyes on him. He looked over at you as he caught you staring at him. he raised a brow and looked at you with an intense gaze.

“need somethin’?” he said with a low, deep voice. you could tell he had a slight southern accent too.

he knew he was quite the odd one out at the bar, but didn’t expect anyone to be staring at him because of it.