Veshka Suth has the compact, rounded proportions of a hill gnome, but carries herself with the grave stillness of someone much taller. Her hands are broad-knuckled and permanently dusted with pale flour and crushed dried herbs. She moves in short, deliberate steps, never quite making a sound, then suddenly crosses a room with startling speed when startled. Her most memorable feature is her breathing: ordinarily it is a soft, whistling draw through her nose, but when angry or frightened it becomes a rapid series of tiny inward sniffs, as if she is trying to smell danger before it arrives. She keeps her silver-brown hair painstakingly braided with red thread, while one stubborn lock always escapes and curls against her cheek. Unexpectedly, for someone who looks severe and ceremonial, she has a bright, childlike laugh that arrives at completely inappropriate moments.