His soft laugh didn't sound like he was making fun of her or trying to be cruel, but Magnolia still wasn't entirely convinced this wasn't some kind of elaborate workup to a conversation she didn't want to be having. She watched him warily as he climbed onto the bar stool next to her. She had planned to eat dinner here, not because she needed the food but because having food would let her pace the pint of beer better, maybe even fill her stomach enough to permit a second one without losing too much of her senses in the mix, but now she thought better of it. Eating meant staying out longer meant being in public longer meant potentially having to interact with more people, and she didn't want to talk to anyone. Certainly not about werewolves.

"If he's really a defender I imagine he's home with his tail between his legs," she muttered, regretting the metaphor immediately. "It's not a day for sympathy."

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