Hiding in the corner during the party, he could only be described as farouche.
Generally, writers are shy, rather farouche types, with a tendency to curl up like hedgehogs on first meeting anyone new.
She felt protective towards him, a strange, farouche creature, impossible to protect.
“He fumbled in a farouche way, confused as to whether to kiss her hand or to shake it.”
He stared down into his party cup with a sullen sort of pouting grimace; farouche and icily antisocial towards all whom passed and wished him a happy holiday.
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