A young dwarf woman with nearly human proportions, broad through the shoulders and hips but long-limbed enough to move with surprising reach. She stands straight-backed and still, making nearby humans feel oddly hunched by comparison. Her skin has the warm brown tone of sun-baked clay, with a faint dusting of pale freckles across her nose and upper cheeks. Her copper-brown hair is shaved close at the temples and gathered into a thick, meticulously oiled braid that hangs almost to her waist. Tiny brass washers are threaded into the braid, each one stamped with the name of a person she has fed, rescued, or failed. Her hands are heavily callused, but her fingernails are polished and painted with tiny blue geometric marks. She smells faintly of iron, cedar oil, and cardamom. The unexpected contradiction is that her severe, work-worn clothing and powerful physique are paired with an almost delicate habit of moving her hands as if conducting music.