Weathered and compact presence honed by years on the walls. Her skin is leathery from wind and sun. She wears her cropped silver braid coiled at the nape like a knot of wire. A pale, jagged scar slices over her left brow and the outer corner of her left eye, the skin puckered and slightly sunken so the eye sometimes seems to squint even when she is relaxed. She moves with the economy of someone who wastes no motion but when she laughs she tilts her head all the way back like a captain pulling a rope, revealing a surprising set of small gold hoop earrings tucked behind the braid. When standing at attention she keeps one hand brushing the hilt of her sword as if to calm it and herself. Contradictory element: despite her severe, shortened hair and face of a hardened soldier she always has a faint smear of flour or grain on her cuff from inspecting the granary.