As her namesake, the current of a swift river, Cerrynt is forever in motion, and when she chooses to move it is swiftly and forcefully, as if something beyond her draws her ever forward. Slender, wiry, and lean, she seems like she could hardly lift the huge axe she nevertheless wields with ease. One might imagine her to be full of the beauty of womanhood just freshly bloomed, until one gets a closer look and finds her loveliness disfigured, most notably by her nose, which was badly broken and did not heal properly, leaving it crooked and misshapen. Even more, though, is the air of impatient urgency, of something to prove, that pervades her every word and gesture; the combination of unearned confidence and desperate need to prove herself are more off-putting than any physical deformity. Beyond these things, she seems much like any other Kymru (Dunlending) of the Dwrgi-lûth (Otter-Clan), dark of hair and skin, shorter of stature than the forgoil, and rugged from a life outdoors. Even compared to her clan she is small and lithe.

(this portrait created by Saelendril in Artbreeder)

(this portrait drawn by me in Procreate)