Kettig Saku is a compact coastal archivist with the weathered look of someone who has spent equal time in salt spray and cellar dust. Their skin is tawny brown, freckled across the nose with pale mineral specks that never quite wash away. Their black hair is cut unevenly at the jaw and usually tied with red catalog thread. One eye is dark hazel, while the other is clouded sea-glass green from an old injury. They move with cautious, economical steps, placing each foot as though the floor might contain a sleeping crab. Their hands are broad, scarred, and permanently ridged with ink stains. The unexpected contradiction is their smile, which is startlingly gentle and almost childlike despite their severe posture, blunt speech, and intimidating collection of knives.