Tall and immediate in presence, he moves like a mountain that remembers rivers. His armor is old, patched, and lived in; a dark chain shirt peeks from beneath a heavy wolf fur draped over his shoulders, the fur mottled where rain and blood have left stains that never fully vanish. A pale eagle-feather is braided into his hair above the left ear, chopped and singed. The scar that runs from his left temple down across the cheek is white and slightly puckered with a faint pattern of hooked marks where an eagle's talon once caught him. When he walks he keeps his chin high and his shoulders square, but when he speaks to the frightened he leans forward, lowering himself as if to take on some of their weight.