Tenthur Dal

Tenthur Dal has large rough hands and a gentle smile.
 
This disguise has to be stronger if Alys is to use it as intended. It needs to feel more rooted in the world, not just a passing face, but a full-bodied identity. Perhaps I’ll start with his job history? Alys thinks to herself. She’s walking through the cold desert, staring at the stars as she reaches the edge of town.
 
The next evening, she’s sitting at the edge of the bed in her dim room at the Foxtail Inn in Khasiba. Once she feels her mind grasp onto a rough image of what he might look like, she stands up at attention. As the image becomes clearer, she steps into the center of the room, raising her arms over her head. She slowly dances about, spinning and standing on her toes. Her eyes are closed.
 
Suddenly, her nimble movements become sloppy. Her arms feel heavy and have an added inertia, dragging her clumsy feet behind them. Her eyes open and look to the little mirror hung on the wall. He’s looking back at her, just as she imagined. Her newest disguise.