Pulling his dusty kerchief from his face, the swarthy man glared at Julius, his brown eyes questioning, and a little suspicious.  His whiskered face bespoke of someone who was used to the road, his long coat and trousers were worn with many mis-coloured patches.  Turning to look around at his fellow Romani, he spoke brusquely, his tone cool, his accent thick and unfamiliar.

   He is perhaps twenty two or twenty three, with close set brown eyes over a large, slightly crooked nose, and his hair is straight and dark.  His skin has a dark tan to it, as is typical of his Romany heritage.