Wally is a compact halfling with rough-hewn skin that tells of sun, river spray, and hard labor. His reddish-brown hair is perpetually tousled, sticking out like wild brush after long shifts on deck. His lively hazel eyes gleam with mischief and quick wit, framed by faint crow’s feet unusually early for his age, a contradiction to his youthful demeanor. He moves with an unpredictable tumble-step gait, as if he’s constantly on the verge of tripping, yet somehow never fully falling, leaving observers enchanted and slightly amused. An incongruous detail is his weathered leather bracer adorned with a small, tarnished silver locket that he absentmindedly fingers when thinking—out of place on his otherwise scruffy, river-toughened appearance.