Romulus moves with the rough, powerful grace of a predator used to open fields and mountain ridges. His unkempt, shoulder-length dark brown hair often clashes with the sun-bleached strands scorched by the ranch’s relentless sun and wind. His wiry beard is patchy, revealing scars left by past fights — most notably a faint, jagged line from his left temple down across the cheekbone, a souvenir from a howling brawl with a rival pack. His wolfish amber eyes gleam with fierce loyalty, yet soften when crooning old mountain ballads by a campfire. A contradictory element to his wild appearance is the small silver pendant shaped like a lute, tucked beneath his rough shirt—a token from his mother, symbolizing his passion for music and his softer inner soul. His movements are confident but often punctuated by sudden bursts of energy — a stomp, a laugh, a tap of his boot to a silent tune.