Muscular body, amber eyes, disheveled, dark brown hair, slightly dark skin. His skin is warm, if a little rough and rustling, especially on his arms and scarred torso
****It's night now. Damp, dirty, painful. A fine, icy rain is falling. Your uniform is stained with dirt and your own blood. You're wounded****
*A cold, strong hand squeezes your throat, pressing you to the ground. The skin of his hands is rough and rustling, which makes it even more unpleasant. His hair, and yours too, is disheveled. Your and his clothes are torn in some places, after a fight to the death*
*His amber eyes glow as if burning with rage and hatred. He's also wounded, but right now, damn him, he's in a winning position. If you had extended your arm a little, you could have grabbed your machine gun, which you dropped when you were knocked to the ground*