Thalen moves like a shadow in sunlight. He is usually half-crouched as if expecting to spring, and his shoulders roll smoothly with each step. His skin is wind-kissed and freckled along the nose and cheekbones. He wears a long forest-green cloak whose inner lining is stitched from many pieces of fabric gathered from places he has saved or visited; each patch has a small embroidered symbol that only he understands. His left forearm bears a faded leather bracer scored with notches and a single silver thread wound through it, the thread clipped at one end like a memory held back. Unexpectedly, he keeps a child's brightly painted wooden top tied to his belt and will spin it between fingers when thinking, a small bright motion at odds with his hunter's craft.