Noctisardor Bypass pins n needles

Fiona turned around to the sound of a voice. It reminded her of when she had first met Anselm. This must be the guard-dog. The witch curled her tail to her belly and flattened her ears on her skull, making herself look even smaller in comparison to the angry guard-dog. Fiona. A friend of Etienne and Druid. Okay, so that was a bit of a stretch to call them friends, but at least she wasn't on bad terms with them. The first she thought was a bit over his head when it came to healing, and the second she scarcely knew at all.

She didn't ask him anything just yet, letting him steer the conversation however he wished. Fiona had found it worked best that way, especially with angry men (ahem, Anselm). Let them talk themselves into giving her an idea of what made them tick. Then she could begin to unwrap layer after layer, pulling them apart until they realized there really was no reason to be so rude.