The shimmering gossamer robes, fabric craft from the material of dreams, give this flighty little avian a look of mystery and sagacity. His wings, white feathered with veins of azure and gold energy flowing through them, jut straight out his back, reaching above his head and arcing back down near the backs of his knees. His movements, although not particularly fast or noticeably agile, appear blurred and out of focus, as if peering through an incorrectly fashioned looking glass. His face seems slightly too perfect, as though the shaping and reshaping of his features caused much of the natural, subtle definitions of his face to smooth out, causing his face to appear rather bland and unremarkable. Strangely, the area around his eyes seems untouched, as though he was unwilling to risk ruining his eyesight. His eyes, framed by wrinkled skin, are a strange mix of blue and green, but not completely either color. They seem to shift with a will of their own, never staying one color too long. Occasionally, a small flicker of black fringed with purple pulses through his eyes, although what this might mean is unclear. His lean, muscled frame shows the obvious signs of wear and tear from his extensive travels, but he looks no worse from it. In fact, it gives him a subtle sense of hardiness, an unconscious but visible sign that shows his devotion to his art.