Tomwise has the wiry, compact frame of a lifelong laborer, with skin the color of polished walnut and hands covered in a map of old woodworking scars and fresh combat callouses. His movements are disturbingly efficient, lacking the bouncy gait typical of his kin; he moves like a shadow passing over deep grass. His eyes are a startling, cold cobalt blue that contrast sharply with his sun-weathered face. Despite the filth of the front lines, he keeps his Ashiell scout leathers meticulously maintained. An unexpected element is the delicate silver thimble he wears on a cord around his neck, a dainty heirloom that seems entirely out of place against his blood-stained gear.