Serrik is a wiry kenku with rain-dark feathers that look almost blue in bright light, as if she has been dipped in a midnight pond and allowed to dry in moonlight. Her face is sharp and weathered, with a pale scar crossing the left side of her beak and a single silver ring through one ear tuft. She moves with the coiled balance of someone who has spent years on shifting carpet-pads over water, always seeming half a step ahead of a tumble. The odd contradiction is her immaculate white whistle, polished to a ceremonial gleam, hanging from a frayed rope of stained coach's cord. When she grows excited, she flaps one wing-tip like a conductor tapping time, and the motion makes her look both stern and strangely joyful.