Veksa is a compact gnome woman whose presence feels heavier than her height suggests. Her hands are broad, scarred, and permanently darkened around the nails by oil and powdered silver. She walks with a forward tilt, as if leaning into an invisible wind, and every step produces a faint sequence of clicks from the braces built into her boots. Her face is square and weathered, with a deep crease between the brows and one chipped front tooth that shows whenever she smiles. A strip of pale surgical thread runs from her left ear to her jaw, a reminder of an old workshop explosion. The unexpected contradiction is her softness: she has the careful, almost reverent touch of someone handling sleeping birds, despite looking like she could dismantle a wagon with her bare hands.