I had a bodily presence. It was constantly changing, but some things stayed the same. My voice was deep, resonating, and still soft. I didn't speak much. Didn't need to. I did not belong to the people I was with, but I was still part of them. They respected me, feared me to some extend. Me and what I could do. But I was, even though I didn't belong, part of them - part of their lives, their culture, their faith. I was where I belonged, even though I did not belong to them. My body was covered in orange silk-like fabric. I was hooded, and the fabric flowed around my body like a soft breeze that was caught and held in place. It seemed to change like my body did, but not as apparent. It didn't cover very much of my skin, but enough. My skin was dark and reflected the light, which made me seem to glow. Not quite black, but a dark brown. My appearance changed - sometimes, I was more feminine, sometimes more masculine, sometimes none of those. It changed from squishy or fat