Korr is a compact, broad-shouldered Waldpfoten with russet-brown fur darkened at the elbows and knees by years of mud, peat smoke, and bog water. His coat lies in uneven weatherproof ridges, as though every rainstorm has combed him with a different hand. His palms are thick and pale with callus, crossed by tiny black splinters of iron and thorn that he refuses to remove. He moves with an unnerving, economical quiet, placing each foot as if the earth might spring shut beneath it. A polished brass kettle hangs from his belt beside a pouch of sharpened fish bones. The unexpected contradiction is his immaculate smile, bright and courteous beneath a perpetually mud-stained muzzle, making him look more like a village host than a notorious trapper.