Compact and wildly asymmetrical. Spronk stands hunched as if perpetually studying a problem, shoulders rounded from years leaning over a workbench. His skin is freckled with faint smudges of soot and solder, and his right ear is folded twice and pinned with a brass cog earring that ticks faintly. His left forearm is sheathed in a braided leather sleeve covered in stitched pockets, each pocket stuffed with springs and tiny glass vials. He walks with a quick, skittering gait and when he reaches for something his fingers move like miniature hammers. Unexpected element: tucked into his apron pocket is a small, perfectly folded silk handkerchief embroidered with a human noble family's sigil, kept pristine and folded with care.