Lysandra stands with a lithe, kinetic energy that suggests she is always mid-calculation. Her skin is a deep, burnished bronze that catches the light like polished mahogany, a stark contrast to the pale ivory complexions of her forest-dwelling kin. Her movements are sharp and precise, reminiscent of a bird of prey. She smells perpetually of ozone, crushed marigolds, and distilled sunlight. Paradoxically, while she deals in the brightest energies, she often wears a heavy lead-lined apron that looks weighted and cumbersome.