Saelira moves like a whisper through birch trunks: feet light, shoulders barely shifting. Her face is long and finely boned—a map of faint scars radiating from her left temple; the scars are pale silver against her olive skin and curve like small crescent moons. Her cloak is mottled moss-green on the outside and woven with bright orange threads on the inside, a flash of fire hidden beneath leaves. She carries a longbow in a worn case carved with a child's handprint and wears a band of braided hair and leather across one brow. Unexpectedly, her left forearm bears tattooed runes in a deep indigo that glow faintly when she whistles—a contradiction to her otherwise earth-muted presence. When she walks, she often tilts her head as if listening for something even in crowded rooms.