SiMa

“Not very pretty." The old man looked her up and down and then cocked his head. "Kind of scrawny too."
Shea stared back at him with the blankest expression she could muster. He'd have to do better than that if he wanted to offend her. She'd never put much stock in her looks. They were always just there. Like the sun or the sky. Neither helping nor hindering. Her strength, speed and capability were infinitely more important. She disagreed, however, with his assessment of scrawny. Scrawny implied she was just skin and bones. It was weakness, and Shea wasn't weak.”
― T.A. White, Pathfinder's Way