A being whose presence reads like a forest memory. Skin is mottled bark with the subtle grain of an old oak and patches of moss that shift with the seasons. Fingers are long and knotted like roots, tipped with charcoal-stained nails. Garments are layered leaves stitched into flowing robes that whisper when they move. Eyes glow softly with the color of wet soil and late-afternoon sun. Movement is slow and deliberate yet unusually graceful for a creature of such bulk. Unexpected element: around its neck hangs a small, polished glass vial of blue city smoke usually kept sealed but sometimes left uncorked for a breath of urban air.