Bloor Line, neck craned, rubbing his beard.

Caucasian male, late 30s, with short, blonde hair and beard, wearing a tan trench coat, rumpled dress shirt and white running shoes, carrying a folding, white cane.

Transformers: Ghost of Yesterday, Alan Dean Foster (Ballantine Books)

Page 149:

A Decepticon of few words, Bonecrusher uttered a growl and gestured sharply as he whirled and led the others toward the hangar.

We stood together in the door, a foot apart. He stared into the light, methodically rubbing his beard, peering at me out the corner of his eye, his mouth weighted down and open in a Popeye sneer. Quickly, he pulled the book to his face, resting the page against his forehead, dragging his eye across the text one letter at a time.