His fear was palatable, and she couldn't imagine what it would take to scare him. He had not feared the wolf or the vampire, so to fear this woman seemed almost inconceivable. She stood from the couch, clearly wearing his clothing and smelling nothing but him and roses. She smelled no danger, no trouble, nothing familiar in the shadowed woman who she could not see, even with her perfect vision.
She touched the bristled fur on his spine lightly, and she surmised the woman must be the witch that kept him here. She took one step forward, but did not pass him. "What do you want here?" she asked, voice still sleep-thick, and she couldn't shake the feeling that, even in the shadows, she should know this woman.