Nadya is a young woman with a narrow, thoughtful face and an athletic softness that makes her seem both sturdy and unfinished, like a statue still being carved. Her hair falls to her hips in heavy, flowing sheets, but it never keeps one texture for long. Near her scalp it may glisten like dark water, halfway down it may clump into ochre curls like wet clay, and at the ends it may burn with smokeless blue-gold flame while wind lifts every strand in a different direction. The transitions move slowly unless she is frightened, when her hair snaps through all four elements in seconds. Her teeth are unusually broad and slightly pointed at the canines, giving her smile a foxlike edge. She laughs with her mouth open and covers it only after remembering that strangers find the sight startling. She takes up more space than her thin frame suggests, turning suddenly, trailing sleeves, and allowing her bird's light to fill every corner of a room. The contradictory impression she leaves is of someone visibly dangerous who handles every fragile object with extreme care.