"I know she would," Patience said heavily. "I hate keeping secrets from her, but I haven't told her about you because I know she would hurt you. She doesn't understand... she doesn't even understand how I can come to terms with being a werewolf, myself. I think it's because - well, there was a werewolf, Fenrir, and he killed my brother."
She looked at him, almost pleading, wanting him to understand. "And now there's another dangerous werewolf out there. All she wants is to keep me safe, I know she blames herself for letting me get hurt, but I still - I won't. I won't tell her about you. I don't even want her to hurt Fenrir, even though he killed my brother, but I couldn't stop her if she did. You wouldn't get a fair trial, you told me so."
She was rambling, going off on tangents, probably making no sense at all. She stopped and took a deep breath, keeping her hand on King's head to steady herself. He was quiet but tense at her side, and she was reassured by his presence. His eyes had moved from Remus to something in one of the trees, but Patience wasn't paying attention. She had been distracted, again, by John's question.
"What? I... yes, he does. You mean... how do you know him?"