Mara Vell is a narrow-shouldered woman with the compact, restless energy of a bird that has learned to use a lockpick. Her movements are economical when serving customers, but become almost theatrical when she casts, with her wrists turning like a conductor guiding invisible musicians. Her hands are stained permanently with blue-black ink beneath the nails, and fine silver lines run across her knuckles like cracks in porcelain. She leaves the impression of someone who notices every detail while pretending not to care. The unexpected contradiction is that her intimidating, severe face softens completely whenever she speaks to children, stray animals, or anyone who has made something by hand.