Silas is a mountain of a man with skin the texture of cured leather and a thick, wild beard the color of coal and ash. He moves with a heavy, rolling gait that suggests the power of a draft horse. His canvas apron is permanently stained with a constellation of bloodstains that never truly wash out, smelling perpetually of rock salt and raw iron. In a jarring contrast to his brutal profession, he wears a small, delicate silver ring on his pinky finger that is kept immaculately polished.

Silas is a man of rigid contradictions; he is fiercely protective of his own clan but allows his sons no rest, driving them as hard as his cattle. He is notoriously generous with travelers, often giving away free cuts of meat, yet he remains miserly and suspicious with his neighbors. His paranoia regarding the Constantine family is his defining trait, leading him to see magical conspiracies in every shadow, even as he relies on ancient, superstitious rituals to 'protect' his herd.

The Redmains have been the dominant cattle family in the village for three generations, locked in a cold war with the Constantines over land rights. Silas took over the family business early when his father was killed in a stampede. Five years ago, his eldest son died of a wasting fever; Silas is convinced the Constantines used dark magic to curse his bloodline. Recently, his prize breeding bulls have started disappearing without a trace of blood or tracks, coinciding with reports of a monster in the woods. Silas believes the beast is a creature summoned by his rivals to ruin him.