Weathered but purposeful. He wears a mottled leather cloak that smells faintly of sea salt and pine resin. His left sleeve is patched with cloth trimmed in a fisherfolk pattern while his right shoulder bears scorch marks that look like old arcane burns. He moves like someone used to both ship decks and forest trails: light-footed and deliberate. Unexpected element: he carries a polished glass bottle with a curled ribbon inside, kept tucked near his heart, that he stares at when worried.