Vaelthir moves with the fluid grace of twilight winds, his movements subtle yet deliberate. His skin shimmers faintly like moonlight on water, soft but with an almost imperceptible coldness beneath the touch. His deep violet eyes seem to refract light oddly, glowing faintly when the world darkens. His hair is a silvery cascade, loose and slightly tangled, contrasting sharply with his usually ink-dark travel cloak woven from shifting shadow-silk threads. Despite the elegance, one sometimes glimpses the faintest twitch of nervous energy in his fingers, betraying an underlying sharpness and restlessness. Unexpectedly, Vaelthir carries a small, hand-carved wooden puppet on his belt—a battered jester figure with mismatched eyes that moves almost lifelike in his occasional absent gestures.