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Summary
It would be coy to say that Dominus was imposing. The man's frame was combat-built, corded and wound like a suspension coil before it slips. You weren't safe anywhere within 100 feet of him and his hands continually flexed, as if he grew up squeezing out dogs.
Worst of him though, was the gas mask: a leather and steel thing straight from the 20th century. The apparatus obscured his face, voice, and intentions but you could hear when he got excited. And the first time he looked at me, I swear the whole damn camp heard his breath rattle in the hose.