Bird looked startlingly different without clown paint. He cataloged these details with cool detachment, like inspecting new equipment: smooth, tawny skin, freckles scattered like spices across his cheeks, thick dark brows, and natural lashes already stage-worthy. Even his lips drew attention, the top much fuller than the bottom, like the gods had fumbled during creation.
Regrettably, his hair was not a clown wig. Wild curls erupted in multiple directions like a ceremonial headdress that had just been through a tornado.