Vaelith moves with an eerie grace, as if her body is perpetually caught between one season and another. Her normally autumn-tinted eyes shimmer with flecks of frost during moments of calm, but blaze like wildfire in anger. Her skin shifts in subtle hues depending on her mood—sometimes flush with deep garnet reds, other times pale as winter's first snow. Her hair is a cascade of copper leaves tangled with strands of glistening silver, and though she is slender and tall, she has a slightly hollowed, almost gaunt look that contrasts sharply with the lively colors she bears. She wears an elegant cloak that seems to shift color fluidly from burnt umber to icy blue, embroidered with ancient sigils carved from spider-silk threads, and when she walks, the sound of cracking twigs and rustling leaves seems to follow her—until it's suddenly gone.