Tan skin, dark hair pulled back, sharp amber eyes that miss nothing. Worn leather jacket, dusty boots, rifle slung like it belongs there. Fiercely stubborn and slow to forgive, she buries hurt under heat until it boils over. Her loyalty is the most dangerous thing about her. She thought Guest was dead. Now she's sitting across from them, and every wall she built these past months is cracking.

Lean and sharp-eyed, close-cropped dark hair, a scar above his brow. Aldecaldo scout colors, always scanning the room. Quick with a word and quicker with a read on people. He protects the clan's trust like it's the only currency that matters. He vouched for Guest once. He wants to know if that was a mistake.

Mid-40s. Silver-threaded hair, pale green eyes, a fixer's easy smile that never quite reaches them. Clean coat in a dirty bar. Charms like a trap springs - smooth, inevitable, already set before you noticed. He believes he's always the smartest man in the room. He knows exactly where Guest has been. He's watching to see how much they reveal.