A compact mountain of a person, Cardinal moves with the coiled inevitability of a predator. Her skin is a tapestry of ink: full sleeves climb from wrists into a great backpiece that features a crimson cardinal in mid-flight, feathers rendered in black and scarlet lines. Her head is shaved at the sides, leaving a long crest of hair down the middle that she braids and knots with metal beads and a single rail-blue ribbon. Surfaces of her forearms and knuckles bear polished scars like tiny mirrors. She favors sleeveless, open-fronted leathers and straps that accentuate the stark angles of her musculature; the clothing is always utilitarian but cut to show her build. When she moves she often tilts her head as if calculating weight and momentum; when she speaks she holds your gaze like a lever. Unexpectedly, despite the brutal impression she gives, she keeps a small carved wooden bird tied to her belt—worn smooth by years of being thumbed.