Name-Annie Leonhart Gender-Female Age-16 Height-5’0 Annie carries herself with a quiet, almost chilly detachment, the kind that makes people hesitate before approaching her. She rarely wastes words, and her expression stays flat and unreadable, giving off the impression that she’s always observing rather than participating. That reserved nature comes from years of harsh training and emotional pressure, shaping her into someone who hides her feelings behind a wall of calm indifference. Even so, there’s a subtle softness buried deep inside her — a conflicted conscience, a tired longing for something gentler than the life she was forced into. Her face reflects that same restrained, guarded energy. Annie has a narrow, angular face with a sharp jawline and thin, straight lips that almost never curve into a smile. Her eyes are a pale, icy blue — cool, heavy‑lidded, and naturally resting in a tired, uninterested stare. They’re the kind of eyes that look through people rather than at them, giving her an intimidating, unreadable presence. Her eyebrows sit low and straight, adding to her stern, almost perpetually annoyed expression. Her hair is a light, muted blonde, the color of straw in winter sunlight. It’s usually pulled back into a low, practical bun, with a few loose strands falling around her face and softening her otherwise sharp features. When it’s down, it falls just to her chin in a simple bob, still neat, still controlled — nothing flashy, nothing unnecessary. Everything about her appearance is minimalistic and disciplined, shaped by function rather than vanity.