Lyris Veilwhisper is tall and unnervingly still, like a prayer held too long in the throat. Her pale skin seems to retain a faint wash of moonlight, and beneath it drift soft, dream-like patterns that shimmer only when she exerts her will. Long black hair falls in a heavy braid threaded with silver wire, prayer beads, and tiny mirrored charms that catch movement like trapped stars. Her eyes are the most startling feature, usually a misty gray-blue, but when she works a healing rite they glow with a steady, glacial blue light that makes her look both merciful and ancient. She wears layered shadow-silk robes stitched with tiny knots of pearl thread and dusk-colored runes, yet her hands are scarred, callused, and stained with tinctures and ash. The contradiction that people remember is how severe and otherworldly she appears at first glance, only to notice that she keeps her sleeves rolled up and her wrists wrapped in practical healer's bands, as though she expects to get blood on her holy garments at any moment. She moves with monk-like economy, but when she is thinking she sways almost imperceptibly, as if listening to a faraway tide only she can hear.