Fynzar strides like a walking legend. He stands as a colossal magenta buffalo in humanoid posture, shoulders broad like small hills and fur rippling with faint ember-light where magenta dyes the world. His coat is thick and slightly iridescent, the hairs threaded with ash-gray that glint when he moves. Braided pasture-rope wraps his forelegs and loops in sacred knots over his chest, each braid studded with tiny carved bone beads and prayer-worn tokens from followers. His horns are blackened at the tips then blaze outward with faint bioluminescent magenta veins. Across his flank is the silhouette of the magenta buffalo head symbol, not painted but embedded in the fur like a birthmark. When he walks, each step thuds like distant drums yet carries the slow, precise glide of one who has paced many migratory miles. Unexpectedly, he wears a single human leather slipper on his left forehoof, softened and mended into a small pouch where he keeps a scrap of scripture and a child's drawing.