An elderly Master Splinter, his face deeply lined with age and wisdom, standing in a dimly lit sewer. He wears a pastel pink pompadour hairstyle, slightly disheveled yet still distinct. His robes are tattered, and his fur is graying, contrasting with the soft pink of his hair. The sewer is damp, with dripping water echoing in the tunnels, graffiti-covered walls, and dim, greenish light casting long shadows. The scene is gritty and atmospheric, with a sense of quiet reflection as Splinter surveys his underground home.