Noctisardor Bypass How would it ever get me by?

On the cusp of Anselm’s lips was some half-witted defense for what Druid had seen that day — but it withered in his mouth as Druid spoke. 

Anselm’s expression contorted to one of surprise. He expected her to confront him about Heda, not this. Vho? He bristled, placing the apprehensively raised paw down. Etienne? 

 A knifetwist feeling sat in his gut.

Vhy?