Poldark (Ross Poldark and his hair)
Ross Poldark rides his trusted steed too close to the cliff – he doesn´t care.
Magically, the cloudy sky mirrors his mood. He rides by in stormy ignorance.
At home, he grasps his scythe and gets to work in the field. He hasn´t done that in about a year, so the timing seems right. No, excellent, because he has to let off some steam.
His hair´s been bothering him all day. He could not get it Out Of Control right. He feels betrayed, but also as if he´s betrayed others.
Miserably, shirtlessly he works up his best torso gleam. It´s something.