Sam apologized for her having known to werewolves in her life, and she had to pause. "Why?" She was genuinely confused, why would knowing werewolves be necessarily bad? "Professor Lupin was a great man, despite the anti-werewolf prejudice," which she still did not understand. Unless you were discussing Fenrir Greyback. And then go and prejudge away. She turned soft eyes on the quarter giant, "Are you well?"
Okay, so that statement would probably be better used in a situation far from one where they were tied up and left in the woods of carnivores. But oh well.
"I do like Beltaine better," she admitted, mostly ignoring the fact that her long hair was a wet stream down her back. That they were cold, wet and covered in mud. "With flowers to put in my hair, bunnies, the magical ceremonies and dancing in springtime." As if she was somewhere entirely elsewhere, where everything she spoke of was currently around them, Luna smiled. "I love bunnies."
"Ronald," she nodded. "Quite funny, but sometimes mean to others. A year above me in school."
Completely unaware of the effect of her question, or why he would be so surprised and/or confused by it, Luna looked around them again. Aware that something or someone was watching them, "I thought not, you are quite pretty." It was stated as a plain fact, as it was in her world.
The not-lycanthrope wolves stalked partially into view, and Luna's eyes darted between them, losing some of their far-off aspect. Without warning, she reached out and grabbed Sam's outstretched arm, pulling down with all her strength in an attempt to knock him off balance. The inertia knocked her to the ground as well, just in time for the wolf that had circled around to her back to jump. Unable to turn mid leap, it landed then rebounded off her back. The witch cried out suddenly, as the animal's claws scratched into her skin.