Theodore is a slight young man with the careful posture of someone who learned to make himself small in crowded rooms. His skin is warm brown and weathered unevenly, with pale patches across his knuckles from years of chalk, lye, and spell reagents. His dark hair curls softly around his ears, usually flattened on one side from sleeping against a rolled cloak. His eyes are hazel, but what people notice first is that they rarely settle on faces. He studies doorways, hands, ceiling beams, and the spaces beneath furniture, always mapping possible danger. He moves with a quiet, floating gait until startled, when he becomes abruptly clumsy and all elbows. The contradictory impression is striking: he looks delicate and almost saintly at first glance, yet carries himself like a rescued animal that has memorized every route to escape.