Zarshki moves with a surprising gentleness for a man of his size. His hands are large and calloused but cradling rather than crushing. He tends to forget his strength when greeting friends and will pat backs with an affectionate slap that can rattle teeth if he misjudges distance. He keeps his beard braided into a single thick plait threaded with small carved wooden beads shaped like leaves. His clothes look patched in a manner that suggests long, patient mending rather than poverty. He wears a moss-green gardener's apron over a faded robe, muddy at the hem and embroidered with tiny stitched representations of birds and root-markings from Lintanar. Unexpectedly, his left forearm is covered in delicate arcane tattoos that shimmer faintly when he channels magic, a refined contrast to the roughness of his hands and work-stained nails. His smile is wide and easy, and he often tilts his head forward so taller people must look down at him when he speaks, which adds to his childlike openness.