Orla Fenneck is a compact halfling woman with a weather-bright face, a mass of red curls, and amber eyes that seem to inspect everything for hidden lettering. Her curls are springy and unruly, but the hair at her temples has gone silver in two sharp streaks, like candle smoke caught in a breeze. She moves with quick, economical steps, leaning forward as though the world is an inscription she might miss if she walks too slowly. Her fingers are permanently darkened by charcoal, and the nails of her left hand are ridged from years of scraping mortar and stone. She leaves an impression of warmth and harmless fussiness, yet there is something unsettling in how still she becomes when she finds a mark. The unexpected contradiction is that her clothes are always meticulously mended and arranged, while her hair looks as if it has just survived a small explosion.