Calatin is a gruff-looking human male in his mid twenties. His features are unremarkable in nearly every way, save a sharp glint in his eyes. Behind his mottled hair and unresponsive facial expressions lies a deep and active mind. It is clear he's been exposed to the sun and other elements, causing a contrast of moderate youth and natural weathering of his facial features.

He wears a long and thick robe of brown cloth. When the hood is down or he extends his arms, the edges of a bit of extremely worn and dark leather armor can be seen. He wears a necklace made of various bones, mostly vertebrae from the tails of large mammals to those with the knowledge to identify them, but is otherwise unadorned. His long hair is usually tied behind his head with a length of grass, vine, or sinew from a recent gift brought to him by one of his pets--whatever thing he can find at hand when the previous implement sloughs off.

He is never without his quarterstaff and well-stuffed backpack. It is a fairly safe bet that he is not the original owner of either, due to their extensive wear.


He also... he smells like a man of the wilds. Fragrant flowers, the smell of fresh rain, dried bird shit, moldy tree stumps, and a bit of the smell of the armpits of a man who enjoys spicy food and a certain nonchalance toward the washing oneself. Oddly enough, if he does not wish to be tracked, the odor disappears completely through some means, begging the question as to why he doesn't see the need to do this more of, if not all of, the time.


Nearly always with him are two wolves. One rather average-built wolf whose fur is colored in shades of gray, hinting at middle-age, and wearing well-worn leather armor over most of its midsection and a harness of bone over its head, crafted from the skull of a much larger wolf. The other is younger and a bit smaller, just out of puberty, and also wears leather armor which is supple and relatively new.

A young hawk is also often perched upon his shoulder or arm. It has yet to lose all of its first set of feathers and is not yet the most majestic of fliers, though it is clear it has imprinted deeply upon the druid.


The rare expressions of joy or pleasure that come to Calatin's face are when he addresses or tends to his companions or other creatures of the lands.