Mara is a narrow-shouldered human woman with a tired, watchful face and hands permanently stained at the fingertips with blue-black ink. Her skin has the dry texture of someone who spends too much time near dust and lamp heat. She moves quickly but quietly, with the careful sidelong steps of a person accustomed to avoiding stacked books, sleeping bodies, and loose floorboards. Her dark hair is cut unevenly at the jaw and usually pinned with a wooden tally stick. She has a small, pleasant smile that appears at inappropriate moments, especially when frightened. The contradiction is striking: she looks fragile enough to be blown over by a winter draft, yet meets threats with a stubborn, almost irritating steadiness.