Valerius possesses a presence as steady as an ancient oak. His skin is the color of sun-warmed silt, textured with fine lines that map a lifetime of quiet laughter. His most striking feature is his hair, a thick mane of slate-grey shot through with literal strands of polished silver that catch the light. A faint, soft gold nimbus hovers just microns above his skin, visible only in dim light. His eyes are luminous pools of liquid amber, lacking pupils, which give him an unsettling yet divine gaze. Despite his celestial heritage, he smells perpetually of damp loam and crushed pine needles. He moves with a slow, deliberate grace, as if every step is an agreement with the earth.