Green-scaled and lithe, he looks like the kind of shadow the marsh itself might cast. His scales are mottled jade and moss with a faint iridescent sheen along his spine that catches moonlight like wet leaves. He wears a patchwork of scavenged hides and repaired studded leather that hangs in asymmetrical layers, each patch marked with a tally of small notches. His snout is long and usually closed in a thin, unreadable line, but when he smiles it reveals yellowed needle teeth and a faintly chipped tooth the size of a thumb that he sharpens obsessively. His left forearm bears a cord of braided reeds and the dried, preserved wing of a teal that he keeps turned inward like a private talisman. When he moves he is unnervingly still until he chooses not to be, then he moves with sudden brutal efficiency. Unexpectedly, he hums low and mournful sea-chants when nervous, an almost human habit that betrays an earlier life by the coast.