What is she? Well she's the cat's pyjamas, the kitten's mittens, the feline's socks, and so forth.  Though besides whatever article of clothing a cat may choose to wear, Syl here preferred figure obscuring robes and fatigues. As one would except, it did a good job of hiding her general proportions and the shape of her figure. Though one could guesstimate that she was neither skin and bones nor overwhelmingly plump, but instead a healthy medium.

However that's enough about her weight and figure, she ate her Wheaties! Evidently though it didn't help her in the height department, as she stood an imposing height of five feet and no change. Granted no one carries around spare change these days in any case.

From the top of her head to juuust past her shoulders rested a vaguely messy mane of hair the colour of wheat. Or rather, the colour of the muddy earth those golden wheat stalks were planted in! Though her hair certainly didn't smell like mud, but of lightly scented soaps and spices. Cleanliness was next to godliness after all.

Her eyes were the cheery, bright, inspiring colour of storm clouds. Her eyes were standard issue, they didn't see into the future, nor see through walls. In fact she could hardly see in the dark, let alone see at all! Judging by the way she squinted or peered in slightly the wrong location, once might deduce that she had completely awful eyesight. Which did bring fear into the hearts of some, considering her favoured weapon happened to be the bow and arrow.

Luckily she did have some serious lenses to help her see. Though that's all they really managed, more so to aid her vision rather than correct it entirely. Still – small victories~

Her expression was often times that of someone bemused, puzzled by something or otherwise in deep consideration of some such thing. Regardless, it didn't seem to take a large toll on her pleasant attitude. The cup is hall full after all!