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This woman appears to be in her late thirties and stands around five feet and eight inches tall. Her body is well conditioned; lean and muscular with a slight curve to her frame that suggests athleticism beyond the occasional gym visit. Her skin is pale and marked with numerous scars that trace out a roadmap of pain. Eyes so pale blue they appear corpse-white peek from under long black hair, thick and woven into a messy mixture of dreadlocks, tight braids and loose stands. No make-up adorns her face.
Her clothing is a simple street ensemble; faded jeans, black tee-shirt, and battered Doc-Martins. An old olive-green jacket, thick and made of durable canvas like an old army coat, covers her torso. Both ring fingers are missing, leaving only a knob of white scar tissue ending where the digit would join the hand. The remaining eight fingers each bare a simple ring of grey metal devoid of markings or jewels. A faint scent of swamp water and vanilla can be caught by those close enough to notice.
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