Standing no taller than a strung longbow, and a great deal shorter than most, Kyneswyth is a lass of callow years, her cares not yet writ upon her face. She smiles often and wears her cheer freely, yet wrinkles her nose often when bemused or confused. Though of fair of complexion and comely of appearance, Kyneswyth's skin is quickly bronzed and her blonde hair locks lightened by the sun when out from under the eaves of Mirkwood. Pleasant voiced, well mannered and softly spoken, she might yet pass for one well-born were it not for her mannish clothing, jerkin of well worn leather and the callouses of bow, harp and spear upon her fingers.

Though no stranger to a dress, she comports herself better in the simple garb of a woodsman than even the relatively fine, though still poor, cotton and wool of a steading-cheif's daughter. She bears in hand the ancient, bronze-tipped spear of her steading's fonder and wears both bow and quiver upon her back and a well-used huntsman's dagger upon her hip. In more pleasant times, a clarsach harp she has been known to carry also, but never in rain nor in winter, when the mood might dampen and warp and the strings stretch beyond repair.

For jewellery she wears a simple twist of copper around her neck, from which dangles an ill-fashioned cage of similar make, containing a small, polished pebble within it's mesh. A golden torc she keeps within her pack, coming forth only on those days she deigns to wear a dress and worn about her neck as if by the chieftains of old.