A tall, somber Taldan man step out of the carriage, the folds of a long frock coat trailing behind him as he moves towards Kendra. An eternal trace of stubble clings to his cheeks, it looks as if his dusty-brown hair is never cut quite as often as it ought to be, and though his clothing may have once been fashionable in the upper echelons of the courts of Caliphas, he is several years behind, and his garb bears visible signs of wear.
He stops before the young lady, his stony face betraying not an ounce of remorse. He opens his mouth for a moment, but quickly snaps it shut as he finds that the words of polite society elude him. He furrows his brow for an instant before his features soften, and he clasps a hand over Kendra's shoulder. "Condolences," he states simply before stepping past her, feeling rather awkward about this whole ordeal.