Glint is a compact cinderclaw with ochre scales dusted in sulfur-yellow powder, as if he has been rolled through a warm quarry floor. His body is narrow and spring-loaded, with a long balancing tail that makes small corrections whenever he stands on a ledge. He waits with one heel lifted and his weight over the balls of his feet, never quite resting. His hands are the feature people notice first: broad-palmed, blackened at the fingertips, and thickly callused from rope, wet iron, and barnacle-crusted stone. He wears brass diving goggles even when no water is nearby, their lenses polished clear except for a permanent crescent of steam-fog at the edges. The unexpected softness is in his movement. For someone who lives around winches and cliff machinery, he handles tools with the delicate care of a person tying a child's ribbon.