Oru is a narrow, sharp-shouldered child with the exhausted stillness of someone much older. Their brown skin is filmed with pale cistern dust, which gathers in the fine creases around their knuckles and at the corners of their mouth. Their hair is black, cut unevenly with a ritual knife, and stiffened in places by dried mineral salts. One eyebrow has been shaved away and is growing back in ragged tufts. Their left ear bears three tiny bone beads, each carved with a dead person's initial. Oru moves with a cautious, sideways gait, testing every surface with the ball of one foot before committing their weight. The unexpected thing is their hands: despite their emaciation and shaking, they are remarkably clean, with carefully trimmed nails and the delicate precision of a miniature sculptor. They leave an impression of a frightened animal trying very hard to look like a patient scholar.