The woman stands short by the standards of most lands, save the Shire. Lean, slender-built, and of agreeable curves and proportions, she gives off the impression of a filigree life-like statuette. She carries herself gracefully and lightly, but without expansive sway of the hips - you'd think she could run on water.

Her eyes, intensely blue and big, are in contrast with the dark complexion. Her hair, if you happen upon her without the omnipresent hat and scarf, is the colour of slightly tarnished copper, with lighter strands here and there. Her face is oval, unblemished, with full mouth under a small, slightly upturned nose.

You’ll find her always ready to tease and giggle and she doesn't shy away from strangers; her manner is easy-going, confident and friendly, her eyes look boldly and unflinching, but you might sense the baggage of experience behind them.

Her clothing is of excellent quality, but shows signs of fatigue - clearly she travels a lot. Pragmatism takes precedence over aesthetics and the only tokens of frivolity in her otherwise very practical looks are a dyed hawk feather set in the felt hat and an intricate thin chain going around her neck and disappearing beneath the front of her shirt.  Sometimes, when lost in thought and oblivious to her surroundings, Cily will play with it, caressing and tugging, until a small exquisite medallion of a silver dragon with a net of blackened scales on its back, snarling jaws complete with teeth, and a pair of leathery wings wrapped around a malachite egg, slips out of her shirt: a miniature likeness of Ancalgon the Black gripping Arda in his claws. Strange thing.

Her age isn't immediately obvious but careful observation might reveal that she's not a coming-out bud, she's a flower that has reached its full potential, and will remain fragrant, bright and sensual for a good few years before its summer fades away.

​Update: She no longer has any silver chains on her neck indicating that the pendant has gone.