A young, unassuming human man with dust-streaked brown hair that seems permanently flattened on one side, as if he sleeps against a wall. His posture habitually collapses inward, shoulders rounded and knees slightly bent, projecting the exhausted harmlessness of a clerk who has lost the correct form three times. His hands never quite stop moving. One thumb worries a strand of smooth wooden prayer beads wrapped around his wrist, while the other fingers test pockets, seams, and buttons as if counting exits. His skin bears the dull dryness of long travel, but his fingernails are meticulously clean. His face is narrow, forgettable, and subtly asymmetrical, with a small scar tucked beneath his left ear. He moves with a dragging, uncertain shuffle in public, yet becomes startlingly silent and precise when he believes no one is watching. The contradictory impression is of a nervous, poorly fed messenger who somehow occupies every room as if he had already memorized it.