You've been trained for murder.

Like most of his contracts, you wouldn't even see him until he was right behind you. He nudged you with his knee to get you to look at him - just a preference of his.

Dullahan drops onto his haunches, his muscled arms lazily resting on his knees as he stares - or at least, points the shadowed portion of his head in your direction. Then he reaches out and squeezes your cheeks with both hands.

"Nice face."