Vaelis stands just over 6 feet tall. Her tawny fur is streaked with silver and ash across the muzzle and along the outer edges of a thick mane. The mane is braided tight and plastered close to the skull with a dark wax that never quite goes away; small bits of straw and oil hide in the braids. Her forearms are scarred in crescent arcs from tackles and halters, with faded tattoo marks near the left elbow that map the litters she once raised. Her hands are broad and callused, always scented faintly of lanolin and horse sweat. She wears heavy leather gloves that are thinner at the fingers from long years of handling reins. The unexpected detail is the neatness of her fingernails: she keeps them clipped and clean, an almost fussy habit that contradicts her otherwise savage profession. In motion she is deliberate and economical, like a beast moving in harness. Animals around her lower their heads or cock ears; they do not fawn, they behave as if she is the axis of a small gravity.