Seshin stands with the restless poise of a river animal deciding whether to flee or strike. Her skin has the translucent blue-gray cast of deep water over stone, with faint rippling patterns moving beneath it whenever she is angry or excited. Her hair hangs in heavy, wet-looking ropes despite being dry, each strand glimmering like dark riverweed. Her hands are unusually broad across the palms, with soft webbing between the fingers and fingertips permanently puckered from years spent handling magical water. She moves in sudden, economical bursts, then becomes utterly still, as if the world has briefly frozen around her. The unexpected contradiction is her smile, which is warm, shy, and almost domestic, utterly at odds with the feral intensity of her stare.