Mara Venn is a narrow, weather-hardened human woman who seems built from reeds, cord, and stubbornness. Her skin is sun-browned across the nose and cheeks, with pale freckles clustered like seeds beneath both eyes. She wears a brilliantly yellow headband that catches the light even under a forest canopy, though it is patched with tiny blue stitches made from old fishing line. Her permanently green fingernails are glossy with plant resin, and the skin around them is cracked into fine dark lines. Mara moves with a quick, birdlike precision, pausing mid-step whenever a scent changes. Her face is sharp and alert, but her hands are unexpectedly gentle, cradling fruit as if it were an injured animal. The contradictory impression she leaves is that of someone fragile enough to snap in a strong wind, yet impossible to push off her chosen path.