A tall slender woman who moves like smoke in a crowded room. Her skin has a faint silvery sheen that catches light like mother of pearl. Hair is long and ash-silver, braided into several thin plaits threaded with bits of copper wire and a single small feather that refuses to sit straight. When she walks, one shoulder dips slightly as if she is listening to something only she can hear. Unexpectedly, the tips of her fingers are stained with faded crimson ink from a lifetime of mapping runes, and she carries a small, battered lullaby box tied to her belt. Her presence is both startling and oddly comforting.