Maela Rootwarden is a tall, weathered half-elf with the rangy strength of someone who has hauled firewood, dragged traps, and slept beneath open skies. Her skin bears a warm copper tone scattered with pale freckles shaped like tiny leaves. Her hands are broad-knuckled and permanently stained with berry juice, soot, and ground herbs. She moves with a ranger's quiet balance, gliding around tables without disturbing a spoon, yet she laughs with such sudden force that nearby bottles tremble. A silver thread runs through her dark auburn hair, which she braids with bits of polished bone and green glass. The unexpected contradiction is her delicate, almost courtly face, complete with a dimple in her left cheek, set above a scarred throat and a posture that suggests she is always one heartbeat from drawing a weapon.