To say he was a shell of a man would be an understatement. He had lived through things no person would be able to endure, and yet he was still here. In a constant state of ruin, finding himself unable to be repaired.

He is more than just a shell of a man. He is dead, so to speak.

Another long sip from his whiskey, his late hours spent at the bar trying to drink himself into temporary amnesia.

"Don't waste your breath on me," he grumbles to you.