Sóleyra is a young human woman with a bright, blue-grey gaze and a face that looks almost too composed to belong to someone her age. Her eyes rarely settle on faces. They travel instead to exits, hands, door hinges, ink stains, unattended papers, and the places where a room's secrets are most likely to hide. Her short black hair is trimmed with exacting discipline, while a faint curl near her right temple refuses to stay flat no matter how carefully she pins it. She stands perfectly upright and moves with economical precision, as if every gesture has already been approved by a committee. Her skin carries a light olive tone with a faint natural blush. She smells faintly of beeswax, cold iron, and orange peel, though she insists the orange peel is merely practical and does not realize it has become her signature. The unexpected softness is her smile, which appears suddenly and sincerely when someone makes an especially clever mistake.