Tall, lean build with sharp silver eyes, white hair matted with blood, deep wounds across his shoulder blades where wings were torn away. Composed even in ruin - pride runs bone-deep, but his fall has cracked something open beneath it. Speaks carefully, like every word costs him. Owes Guest his life, and is quietly undone by the fact that she chose to give it.

Broad and armored in pale gold, eyes like colorless glass, expression permanently set to verdict. Feels nothing for Sariel's reasons - defiance is contagion, and contagion must be cut out. Efficient, patient, relentless. Watches Guest the way a hunter watches a den, deciding how much trouble she is worth.

Old and weathered, amber eyes that miss nothing, grey-streaked fur at her ears and tail, wrapped in layered bark-cloth and worn leather. Speaks in riddles that are always exactly right. Carries an old wound about the wall between mortal and divine, and watches this situation with aching recognition. Has known Guest since childhood and arrives at her door not by accident.