Embrace the Winter Spirit: The Sturdy Survivor

He stands barely over five and a half feet—short and broad-shouldered, with a sturdy, slightly chubby frame that speaks of rough winters and survival, not vanity. His skin is a stark snow-white, drained of color as if the cold itself had tried to claim him. Long, wild black hair tumbles past his shoulders in tangled, wind-whipped strands, framing a face hidden beneath an unkempt, bristling beard. He looks like a man who’s slept more in forests than in beds, and cared little for mirrors. But it’s his eyes that betray what he truly is—fiery bronze, glowing faintly like embers beneath ash. When he's angry or channeling his patron's power, the light in them flares with almost painful brilliance, like sparks leaping from a forge.