Vythra moves like a tide: sure, measured, and carrying an undercurrent of force. Her scales are mottled bronze with streaks of green where salt and sun have weathered them; faint, pale scars trace across her jaw and the left brow, one a diagonal white line that twists up into a horn ridge. She keeps her crest cropped into short, bristly ridges that snap forward when she's surprised. Her gait is surprisingly light for someone with a tail and heavy shoulders — she steps with the care of a climber. When she stands still, her head tilts as if listening to things others cannot hear. Unexpectedly, she wears a child's red ribbon tied around the base of her tail, frayed and often dust-streaked, which contradicts the otherwise practical, military cut of her gear.