Standing seven feet and eight inches tall, Pellin is a mountain of soft, moss-toned muscle. His skin is the color of lichen-covered granite, topped by a chaotic mane of thick navy-blue hair that he ties back with literal kitchen twine. He possesses the long, velvet-textured ears of his kin, which twitch rhythmically when he is chopping vegetables. He moves with a deceptive, gliding silence that contrasts with his immense bulk. His hands, though scarred by hot grease and knife slips, are incredibly steady. Unexpectedly, he wears a small, delicate pair of silver-rimmed spectacles perched on his broad, bovine nose for fine-label reading.