Small, quick as a breeze and always a little rumpled. Tobin's clothing is patched in a dozen mismatched fabrics collected from barter or theft. He wears a loose slate-gray cap with one ear flopped out and a frayed map tucked into the band. His hands are ink-stained at the fingertips from tracing gear teeth and from playing with merchants' ledger marks. When he moves he keeps his head tilted as if listening to half-remembered instructions; when still he fidgets with a tiny brass gear wound around his thumb. Contradiction: his face is earnest and open but his eyes catalog everything like a shopkeeper tallying prices.