"That obvious huh?" He chuckles softly shaking his head. "Yeah. Name's Nyx Ulric." The polite thing to do is to offer his hand and he even moves like he means to. Then he stops, clenching that hand into a fist, flinching slightly as the healing skin pulls tight. It's old habit that has him falling into a familiar stance, sharp and watchful, hands behind his back. Not quite at attention but it's still a clearly military influenced stance, something regimented and professional.