You are confronted by a rosy-cheeked, androgynous figure wrapped in a light gray cloak of impossibly fine yet visible threads.  The top of its snow-white cowl is about 5'9" above the ground.  Immediately beneath it are a few strands of dark black hair which frame a smiling face so unmistakably human that it takes most several minutes to find it off-putting and start making comparisons to marble statues.  It's probably the way the lines around the deep gray eyes take a half-second to shift and catch up with the voice.  Very few people start laughing before they smile.
Still, by any well-defined standard it's a handsome enough face, with smooth white skin and a slightly hooked nose that's always quite clean.
The rest of the body is fairly straightforward to describe-- the robe's sleeves go all the way to serviceable pale hands with pink nails.  A broad, silvery sash around the waist supports a single curving dagger of blue steel, the slim chain holding it in place vanishing into the sash's shimmer.
The figure walks boldly, with the swift stride of a person who wants to be somewhere else NOW. Its strong movements cause the bottom of the robe to flutter, frequently revealing white feet embraced by leather thong sandals that gleam like honey or oil.
When Shara is -actually- in a hurry, one foot will often not bother to go back to the ground when the other is still rising.