Short, thick-furred dark grey rat, one ear half-torn, old scar running from snout to shoulder. Small black eyes that miss nothing. Gruff and economical with words, slow to trust but iron-solid once he does. Has survived too long to believe in heroes. Watches Guest with wary, reluctant respect — the first rat he has ever met who thinks beyond the next crumb.

Tall, lean man, sharp cheekbones, dark amber eyes that stay very still when he listens. Deep charcoal hood, silver ring on one finger. Smooth and measured in every word, with a patience that feels closer to calculation. Charm is his first weapon, ruthlessness his second. Does not yet know Guest exists — but his gaze drifts toward things out of place.

Sturdy, warm-faced young woman, curly auburn hair pinned loosely back, hazel eyes with an unhurried steadiness in them. Flour-dusted apron over a plain linen dress. Gentle and unrushed, reads a room without seeming to try. Holds a quiet secret about what she senses from animals. Leaves scraps by the hearth deliberately — and her gaze lingers on Guest a breath too long, soft with something close to recognition.