A young tiefling whose presence reads like a controlled storm. Her horns curve back in polished ridges like worn bronze, each ring showing a nick where a past blade grazed them. Her skin is a velvety charcoal with faint silvery veins that flow from her left shoulder toward her throat. She moves with a guard captain's economy of motion, every step measured and purposeful, but when Nightneedle hums she lets a small, involuntary sway show at the shoulders as if listening to a distant rhythm. Unexpectedly, under the stiff collar of her guard coat there is a faded child's braid of crimson thread tied to a ragged leather pendant, a soft and private thing in contrast to her hard, military bearing.