Kaeda stands with a deceptive stillness, her frame wiry and toughened like sun-dried leather. Her left eye is a milky, sightless orb, while her right is a piercing flint-grey. She moves with a strange, rhythmic swaying, as if navigating a crowded market even when standing in an open field. Her hands are permanently stained with indigo dye and marked by the tiny, silver scars of a thousand needle pricks. Despite her humble attire, she carries herself with the poise of a high courtier, creating a jarring contrast between her peasant rags and her noble bearing.