Veyla is a narrow, moon-boned half-elf with the careful stillness of an old bird that has learned when not to move. Her skin is parchment-pale and faintly freckled with age spots like spilled tea leaves. Her silver-white hair is usually pinned into a loose knot, but a few black strands still streak through it like ink in water. She dresses in layered circus velvet and travel-worn lace, with brass charms stitched into the hems so they whisper when she turns. One eye is a clouded amber gold, the other a vivid green that seems younger than the rest of her face. Her fingers are long, knuckled, and stained with card ink. She walks with a gentle limp, yet somehow always seems to arrive before anyone notices her coming. The strangest thing about her is a bright red clown ribbon tied around her wrist, worn like a mourning band.