Veska Kettir is a tall, narrow-shouldered woman with the controlled balance of someone who has spent half her life walking wet planks above black water. Her movements are slow only at first glance. Each gesture finishes exactly where it intends to, with the quiet precision of a heron striking beneath the reeds. Her skin is deep umber, patterned at the wrists and throat with pale lines resembling dried river channels. Her hair hangs in a heavy silver-black braid, stiffened with willow fibers and threaded with tiny green glass beads that click softly when she turns her head. Her left hand is permanently stained green from the Flood of Lanterns, and her fingertips smell of crushed mint, wet bark, and iron. She has a severe, almost starved appearance, yet her smile is unexpectedly warm and boyish when a child or frightened animal approaches.