Scott stands broad and imposing, a mountain of muscle mottled with sinewy scars and fur sprouting in unkempt patches across his forearms and neck. His movements are abrupt and jagged, like a storm barely contained. His steel-gray eyes flash with barely restrained fury beneath thick brows, and his dark brown hair is tangled and wild, crowned by surprisingly gentle dimples when rare smiles break through his usual scowl. Contradictory to his brutish demeanor, he wears a delicate silver ring he never removes, a gift from their mother, pressed beneath his leather cuff.