Her stature is humble at 5 feet, 4 inches (162 cm). A lifetime of horsemanship has given her a very strong constitution, lean sinew encased in a voluptuous figure of youthful womanhood.

She carries an expression that is unassuming, observant, and utterly guileless. Her eyes are deep, dark blue, not unlike the color of sapphires. Full, bow-shaped lips are set beneath a straight, proud nose. Her hair is very pale gold, an almost ashen color, softly waved as it tumbles to the middle of her spine. When working or traveling, it is oft harnessed into a tight braid. There is a roughly-stitched scar upon her right cheek that stretches from her ear in a nearly vertical line to the corner of her lips.

Her clothing is typically plain and utilitarian; work tunics and simple, hardy dresses. Her favored colors are blue and green. She has a fawn-skin shawl that will appear around her shoulders in chillier weather. 

Demeanor:  A quiet and gentle creature, unless stirred to passion. With a firm belief in selflessness and the greater good, she often puts the welfare of others before her own, sometimes to the point of being detrimental to her own peace of mind or physical safety. It is rare to see any outburst of emotion in public, but in the private company of a friend, a vast depth of feeling may be glimpsed. She is reserved and inward, and selects friends with rarity. She hates no one (save the servants of darkness), and the ardency of the affection she offers to friends or to a lover is boundless. 

Weapons: A small, simple dagger of Rohirric craftsmanship sits at her right hip constantly as a means of protection.  

“I am not an angel," I asserted; "and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself.”

~ Charlotte Brontë