Zook is a compact figure whose presence is announced by the faint, rhythmic ticking of dozens of concealed gears. His skin has the texture of fine-grit sandpaper from years of handling brass shavings, yet his hands are surprisingly soft and oiled. His hair is a chaotic shock of oxidized copper orange, gathered into several small braids that serve as holsters for tiny screwdrivers. He wears a heavy leather artisan's apron that is perpetually stained with black grease, but underneath, he wears the finest sapphire-colored silks. His most striking feature is a brass telescoping lens permanently fixed over his left eye, which whirs and clicks as it focuses on whoever he is speaking to. He moves with a jerky, erratic precision, much like a wind-up toy, yet he can become unsettlingly still when he is observing a mechanism.