Siobhan made her way along to the edge of of the riverbank, moss grew along the stones and ferns jutted out from every nook, cranny, and crevice. The cold had made them shrivel slightly, and everything held a forlorn frost-bitten look to it. She was a fairly young girl, though her face had an agelessness to it that made it possible to place her age. Twenty? Twenty-five? Thirty? She was heavily-built and carried a slight amount of what her Grandmother tactfully called 'puppy fat'. Siobhan had large, brown eyes and a waterfall of curling brown hair that reached some ways down her back. As she picked her way through the stones, she hummed softly to herself, the sound lost behind the roar of the waterfall.
Golyat was a creature of the city by nature, any cities or any towns. The countryside wasn't his place, it was too open, too small. It was easy to slip among the crowd in a city, no one cared. Here, people wanted to know your life story if you simply asked them what the time was. He looked rather curious sitting among the rocks, a cigarette in his hand. His hood and the angle of his head meant that it was impossible for anyone to see his face. One of his arms was bound up in plaster (for the third time) and he held it awkwardly, what little skin visible on his hands was cracking and peeling like old paper. It was an odd skin condition that had always plagued him. If you considered the fact he was some sort of Golem, it wasn't really that surprising.