[Wynter is waiting for her when she arrives. He cuts quite a figure: tall and pristine. He's wearing full armour, in colours of red with a cream outline, gloved and booted to match and a bronze chest plate that decorated quite beautifully and a holster, similarly decorated with a staser handle visible. The only thing that's missing is the ceremonial helmet, but as that's a red baseball-esque affair with a large feather coming out of it, Wynter has deemed it unnecessary.

His image is perhaps intimidating if it wasn't for the young face framed with sticky out ears and fluffy blond hair. His smile, even though it's not carefree by any means, is still one with a genuine core that suggests sincerity.

It's a pity he ended up in Gallifreyan politics where it all became something of a liberty.]

Hello, Lydia.