A tall tiefling who moves like a hunting arrow even when standing still. He wears a hood usually pulled low, revealing a face with warm, ruddy skin and fine horns swept back like polished obsidian. His left forearm is wrapped in mismatched leather and cloth, a tapestry of small hunting trophies sewn into the bandage: a fox whisker, a raven feather, a chip of greenstone. When he walks his cloak whispers like leaves. Unexpectedly, he always carries a small carved wooden lullaby box tied to his belt; when opened the box smells faintly of lavender and sea salt and plays a single cracked note. The impression he leaves is of someone capable and watchful who keeps melancholy close to his chest.