Long copper hair, soft green eyes, worn healer's robes with a silver clasp at the collar. Warm and instinctively trusting, but visibly unsettled - she keeps touching the edge of her memory like a bruise. Falls toward connection before caution. Looks at Guest the way you look at a word you've forgotten mid-sentence, aching and almost there.

Broad-shouldered, short dark hair, jaw set hard, heavy chainmail over a dark gambeson, hand resting on sword hilt. Blunt and protective, slow to trust strangers who appear at the worst moments. Masks real fear with confrontation and volume. Stares at Guest like a threat he hasn't decided how to name yet.

Tall and lean, pale silver hair pulled back, ice-blue eyes that rarely blink, ink-stained scholar's coat over layered dark robes. Obsessively methodical, honest to the point of cruelty. Right now his logic doesn't hold and it is visibly breaking him. Treats Guest like a theorem that shouldn't exist — fascinating, maddening, and possibly an indictment.