Acantha was, to say the very least, the adventuresome type and her looks went a length to convey such.
Though she was only five and a half feet, she acted as if she were ten tall, strolling along with an impossibly confident stride. The woman wore an ever-present smirk to match the sly, green gaze she shot from place to person and back again while on her way, hips to sway with each and every firm, self-assured step. Oft her auburn bangs would fall before her eyes, though a quick toss of the head would send the shortly cut mane back into place at least for a little while, occasionally readjusting with calloused fingers if needed.
The proud lady certainly leaned towards the athletic end of the physical spectrum, with long and toned arms, legs and abs containing a youth of muscle and sinew strengthened through play fights, general foolishness and many, many close encounters. Despite the relative hardness of the rest of her body, Acantha did posses a fair bust and rump like many, less-foolish women her own age, though the generally constricting garb she wore did a number to accentuate such feminine features.
Even if Acantha's wardrobe might change dramatically from one instance to the next, one constant was the length of rope coiled across the woman's person from shoulder to opposite hip no more than five or six times. A variety of small pouches adorned the back of her belt as well holding a wide selection of unlabeled vials, small metal rods, skipping stones and other queer-but-common items. A fat metal knife stayed hooked into the front of the woman's belt too, it's sand-blasted leather scabbard barely strong enough to keep hold of the equally worn tool.