A slim, wiry young human woman with warm umber skin and a sun-browned nose, built like someone who has carried wet firewood and dragged stuck wagon wheels rather than trained for parade-ground battles. Pale rope-burn marks ladder both forearms, old and smooth, while her hands are callused around the thumbs. Her deep brown eyes are flecked with amber and stay alert even when her mouth offers a restrained half-smile. Uneven shoulder-length dark-brown hair has been hacked bluntly with a knife, except for one stubborn longer lock that falls across her cheek and is repeatedly tucked behind her ear. She moves with lowered shoulders and a quiet, angled readiness, always keeping her shield close to her ribs. The unexpected softness is the way she handles frightened animals and sleeping children, with extraordinary patience. She smells faintly of cedar smoke, horse leather, and crushed fennel, though she insists the fennel is only in her tea.