Mireva is a young dwarf woman with a compact, muscular frame proportioned more like a short human than a broad-shouldered traditional dwarf. She stands upright with an easy, balanced stillness, as if every floor might suddenly become a mountain ledge. Her face is softly human in its proportions, with a rounded chin, high cheekbones, and a small, thoughtful mouth. Her skin has the warm umber tone of someone who spends most days outdoors, dusted permanently at the knuckles and elbows with a pale mineral cast that soap never quite removes. Her thick dark-brown hair is cut to the jaw and tied behind one ear with blue thread, though loose strands constantly curl around her cheeks in damp weather. Her most unexpected feature is her delicate, almost birdlike hands, which contrast with the dense strength of her arms and shoulders. The fingers are broad at the joints, polished smooth at the pads, and stained with red clay from years of marking trails and testing stone. She moves quietly for someone so solid, placing each foot with careful patience, then occasionally crosses a room in three startlingly quick steps. People tend to remember her as both sturdy and strangely graceful.