Ruun Vasko has the compact, heavily used look of someone built by years of hauling casks rather than formal training. Their skin is copper-brown and roughened by sun, spilled spirits, winter drafts, and constant scrubbing, with pale bands around the wrists where sleeves usually end. A broad jaw gives their face a stubborn, almost carved shape. Their teeth are unusually square and bright, except for one silver-capped molar that flashes whenever they laugh, which is more often than strangers expect. Ruun moves with quiet economy, always turning their shoulders first as if navigating a crowded room. Their hands are thick, knuckled, and permanently scented with rosemary, ash, and old oak. The unexpected thing is their gentleness: despite their heavy build and soldier's balance, they handle cracked cups and frightened children with the delicacy of a jeweler.