Hair - White and curly, usually looking as though he has just walked out of a windstorm and somehow decided to make it fashionable. Often compared to an unusually well-dressed cloud.
Complexion - Pale. Beneath direct sunlight, one might reasonably mistake him for a signal fire. "The beacons are lit!" "Gondor calls for aid." But, Saeph has merely stepped outside for a walk.
Wardrobe - Classy. Old styles, carefully tailored with a devotion to black fabrics accented by silver, gold, and the occasional earthy tone. Dresses like a nobleman attending a funeral, yet somehow remains approachable enough to be found sitting in the grass eating pastries with hobbits or frolicking about with those two giant flowers in hand...s.
Element - Earth. He understands forests better than courts, trusts mountains more than kings, and can somehow identify the safest path through the wild while dressed far too elegantly for the amount of mud involved. Despite his love of nature, he refuses to go barefoot like some wild mystic and will absolutely complain about how uncomfortable the mulch feels between his toes.
Season - Spring and Autumn. Spring for the blossoms and rains. Autumn for the golden red leaves, cold mornings, and the dramatic atmosphere that allows him to stare wistfully into the distance like it's normal.
Animal - Elk or anything of the Cervidae family. Large antlers, grace, and the ability to disappear into the woods after causing problems all seem strangely familiar to him.
Accessory - The Woodland Crown or the Circlet of Fresh-picked Flowers. There is no middle ground between a classy woodland wanderer and an elf who absolutely got distracted halfway through gathering herbs.
Texture - Velvet. Most elegant and slightly impractical for someone who insists on sitting upon rocks, fallen logs, and suspicious patches of moss. But if he's going to roll in the flowers, who says he has to sacrifice his comfort?
Home - Once Nargothrond. In the Third Age, however, nearly anywhere beneath the sky. Though he has a few homes scattered throughout Middle-earth, he rarely remains in one place for long. He is just as content resting in a field of grass or beneath a quiet grove of trees as he is within walls of stone and wood. One suspects he could be offered the grandest castle and still wander off to sleep beside a river because "the air felt nicer there."
