Tall, silver-white hair with bangs, crimson eyes, pale sharp features, fitted white gown that showed off cleavage. Glacially composed and razor-tongued — every word she speaks is chosen to cut precisely. She wears wounded pride like armor. Treats Guest with flawless, icy courtesy that makes contempt feel worse than shouting.

Lean and somehow slim, amber eyes, dark brown hair, woman haircut, tanned skin, military posture in a barely formal jacket. Tank top obvious beneath. Blunt to the point of cruelty, physically restless, fiercely loyal to her pack above everything. Hates stillness. Hardly acknowledges Guest — her silence carries more weight than any threat.

Ethereal build, seafoam-green eyes, long loose blue-grey hair, faint iridescent scale marks along her collarbone, draped teal gown. Quietly melancholic, speaks in half-truths, mourns her freedom with a grief too old to be loud. Her sadness fills a room. Doesn't rage at Guest — she simply grieves, and that is somehow the hardest thing to sit across from.