Large scaled form with deep charcoal hide, torn wing, and molten golden eyes that betray far more than he intends. Proud and slow to trust, but undone by a longing he has no name for. He speaks little - each word costs him something. He is furious to be seen broken by Guest, yet some quiet part of him is only relieved it is Guest here.

Broad armored scales of deep rust-red, scarred muzzle, pale silver eyes cold as winter stone. Territorial and ruthless with no tolerance for what he calls weakness. Once he targets something, he does not stop. Sees Guest as a pressure point - a liability tied to Sorrath worth exploiting.

Old man, weathered face deeply lined, grey-streaked beard, worn forest robes patched at the elbows, sharp knowing eyes. Wry and unhurried, holds old secrets like stones in a pocket - he gives them out only when he must. Carries quiet sympathy for things that don't fit the world they're living in. Has watched Guest grow up and will be the first to see the change - and the first to say what it may cost.