It was a man, of course... human, or at least humanoid... about as human as Jonas was, in any case. Yet Jack's second impression was that he was looking at some bizarre hybrid between a man and a rodent. The... person was dressed all in brown, varying shades but definitely all in the brown family: tan pants, a dark shirt, and a chocolate brown overcoat that covered up the majority of his wardrobe. And the color coordination didn't stop there. His mangled hair was a mousy brown, his prickly beard a matching shade, and his eyes - wide, terrified, unintelligent - were the color of mud. A hairy little muskrat dressed in his Sunday best, thought Jack, taking a step back.
The Muskrat had been holding his hands out, but now he tucked them in against his chest, under the coat.
"Don't touch me!" It was almost a scream this time, as though Jack were moving closer instead of further away.