Melian Trotter is a broad-shouldered human woman with the compact strength of someone who has lifted wagon axles for most of her life. Her hands are permanently darkened by soot, oil, and walnut stain, while her forearms carry fine white scars from splintered spokes. She moves with a rolling, deliberate gait that becomes startlingly quick when something needs catching. Her face is weather-browned and lined around the eyes, but her smile is unexpectedly delicate, almost shy. She keeps one side of her head shaved and braids the remaining iron-gray hair with strips of faded red harness leather. The contradictory detail most travelers remember is her immaculate fingernails, each one polished smooth with beeswax before she handles a customer's expensive gear.