She looks like someone who sprung from a hedgerow. Her skin is medium-fair and freckled across the bridge of her nose and forearms. Long red curly hair is braided into a single thick plait that hangs down to her waist and is threaded with bits of fiber twine, small dried herbs, and one faded blue ribbon. Movement is deliberate and grounded; she steps as if feeling the soil even on stone. She favors broad, expressive gestures with her left hand while her right constantly fingers the handle of her umbrella. An unexpected element: when startled she instinctively whistles a precise three-note farmers' cadence that seems oddly musical and out of place for a practical woman.