Rasp Pick-Tread is a small kobold with dark charcoal scales that catch faint blue highlights in firelight, each scale powdered with the pale grit of the Wyrm-Tooth Ridge. His limbs are wiry and compact, built for climbing rather than wrestling, and he moves with a constant forward lean, as if the mountain is always beginning to slide beneath him. A blunt ridge of pale horn runs from his brow to the back of his skull, not regal but practical, polished smooth where years of crawling under low ceilings have worn it. His nostrils flare before he speaks, tasting dust and hot mineral air. The unexpected detail is his immaculate pair of tiny white gloves, embroidered with red thread by his youngest sister, which he wears even while handling rope, chalk, or blood. Within a minute of meeting him, people notice that his rapid speech is matched by an even faster breathing pattern. When rattled, the words stop first, then his breath becomes a soft clicking hiss, like pebbles shaken in a cup.