Sera usually holds the face of a tanned, rakish woman with sharp cheekbones and hazel eyes, framed by glossy black hair braided with thin copper chains. Her travel-worn skin shows faint crescent scars along one forearm — pale, raised marks that look almost like stitches. She moves with a limber, dancer's grace: feet light, hips subtly swaying when she speaks. Her left index finger bears a tiny silver ring worn on the inside of the knuckle, reversed so only she and whoever she chooses can see it. Contradiction: while her clothing and bearing scream color and showmanship, her hands are impeccably neat and her eyes often scan a crowd like a watchful sentinel, giving the impression of both revel and calculation.