Xyphira Celdra

Xyphira Celdra wears a field-cured leather jerkin scored with tally marks for every pact she’s logged—acorns paid, fires barred, springs checked. Her hedgehog-backed quills are kept oiled and combed into neat rows, and she taps her clawed fingers on the rim of a clay water-flask whenever she disputes a trail’s “owner.” Lawful in the woods, she settles arguments with counted boundaries, not threats.