Snake-Eater serves as the novel’s primary antagonist, embodying entitlement, coercive attachment, and the dangers of conflating love with possession. Unlike traditional villains, Snake-Eater is not motivated by malice alone but by an unchecked belief in his own emotional claims. His introduction frames him through the language of suffering—“a soul so tormented with loneliness that it had no choice but to cry out” (94)—inviting sympathy. However, the narrative quickly complicates this framing by revealing how Snake-Eater’s loneliness leads him to violate others rather than be vulnerable with them.

In particular, Snake-Eater consistently reframes harm as misunderstanding. He treats gifts as contracts, persistence (his) as devotion, and resistance (Selena’s) as deception. He repeatedly externalizes responsibility, positioning himself as wronged rather than accountable. That his framing of himself as a victim contrasts with his conventionally masculine appearance reveals what is actually going on: Snake-Eater wields his sense of grievance to shore up his own power, which, in contrast to that of the other spirits, is controlling, individualistic, and patriarchal.

The text’s portrayal of Snake-Eater balances empathy with judgment. Characters acknowledge Snake-Eater’s pain but never allow it to excuse violence or entitlement. His inability to accept refusal ultimately isolates him, revealing how brittle the mode of power he embodies is. In this way, Snake-Eater functions as a thematic counterpoint to the novel’s model of love and community.

Grandma Billy occupies the role of mentor, aligning with the archetype of the wise guide while actively subverting its usual presentation. She is informal, humorous, blunt, and deeply practical—qualities that distinguish her from more solemn authority figures. Though she sometimes speaks in adages, as in her remark that “Things show up when they’re needed” (21), her wisdom is grounded in lived experience and attentiveness to place. 

Characterized through both her dialogue and action, Grandma Billy repeatedly models healthy boundaries and the responsible exercise of power for Selena. She takes threats seriously without dramatizing them and offers help without imposing it. She is a foil to the novel’s various abusive figures, as she never demands power. Instead, her authority emerges through competence—feeding people, protecting animals, and naming danger plainly. As an older, transgender woman, Grandma Billy also challenges assumptions about who is allowed to be powerful, knowledgeable, or protective. Narratively, Grandma Billy functions as a stabilizing force who validates Selena’s perceptions without encouraging dependence, echoing the novel’s broader portrayal of Community as Protection.

Copper functions as a personified nonhuman character, occupying a central emotional and ethical role in Snake-Eater. While she is a dog, the narrative consistently grants her agency, intention, and relational presence rather than treating her symbolically. Indeed, Copper’s physicality—her size, age, and vulnerability to heat—anchors Selena in the present moment, repeatedly drawing her out of dissociation and rumination. Through Copper, the novel establishes that love can be unconditional without being coercive.

As a character, Copper is largely static; her narrative importance lies in how others respond to her. Selena’s decisions are often filtered through Copper’s needs, positioning Selena not as someone who gives herself away indiscriminately but as someone who understands the relationship between care and responsibility. Copper’s presence also disrupts Selena’s tendency toward minimization; when danger arises, Selena acts decisively for Copper’s sake, even when she struggles to do so for herself.

Father Aguirre serves as a moral anchor, subverting the expectations that often surround religious authority in speculative fiction. As a Catholic priest, he occupies a position traditionally associated with judgment or dogma, yet his characterization emphasizes humility, humor, and restraint. His speech is measured and curious rather than prescriptive, and his authority derives from the way he puts his faith into practice via trust and care. 

This makes him a stabilizing presence rather than a controlling one, as well as one who repeatedly models ethical behavior rooted in community. His willingness to collaborate with Grandma Billy and defer to others’ expertise reinforces the novel’s rejection of hierarchical power structures. Indeed, the novel treats even his supernatural capabilities as tools rather than markers of superiority. He thus functions as a foil to the coercive authority figures in Selena’s past—particularly her mother, whose abuse was intertwined with her religious extremism. He validates, offers help, and respects boundaries, and, in doing so, represents an alternative vision of institutional power that protects and guides without claiming moral ownership.

Selena’s mother and Walter function as paired antagonistic forces within Selena’s backstory, representing distinct but interconnected expressions of emotional abuse and control. Though they differ in temperament and context, both figures rely on minimization and the projection of moral certainty to assert authority over Selena. Narratively, these characters are static and largely (or entirely) off-screen, but their impact is evident in Selena’s words and actions—particularly her internalized scripts. Both figures insist that they understand Selena better than she understands herself. In this way, they intensify the central conflict, as it is the psychological groundwork they have laid that makes Snake-Eater’s entitlement difficult for Selena to name.

Selena’s mother embodies ideological control; she espouses an extremist religious worldview that frames Selena’s obedience and suffering as moral imperatives. In leaving little room for dissent, she teaches Selena that love is conditional and that self-denial is virtuous. Walter, by contrast, presents himself as protective and rational, often positioning his behavior merely as concern. Over time, however, his language erodes Selena’s confidence, recasting her instincts as flaws and her needs as inconveniences. His portrayal demystifies “benevolent” or “soft” patriarchal authority, as Walter’s infantilization and manipulation of Selena solidify his own control while undermining her confidence and agency.

The spirits of Quartz Creek embody the novel’s conception of The Power of the Natural World and, more broadly, its portrayal of power as local, relational, and ethically contingent. Snake-Eater introduces a range of spirits whose influence corresponds to scale and place. Lesser spirits, such as the lesser squash god in Selena’s garden, exist in close proximity to human life, while stronger manifestations, like the gathering of spirits around the fire in the spirit realm, reflect broader communal forces. This continuum reinforces the novel’s emphasis on “small gods” tied to specific environments.

Individual spirits have distinct personalities and functions, and they do not always agree with one another. Yellow Dog, Scorpion, Old Man Rattlesnake, and DJ Raven each participate in the confrontation with Snake-Eater, their decision to aid Selena explicitly linked to her actions—moving scorpions outside, caring for her dog, etc. As a radio host in the human world, DJ Raven occupies a liminal role that implies the interconnectedness of humanity and nature. Meanwhile, Hawk oversees the spirits’ deliberations with restraint. The spirits thus model a form of power rooted in reciprocity and dialogue.