When he sees this tall woman with the mass of cascading curls bearing down on him, there's a moment when his heart leaps into his throat and words ring heavy in his head here she is, here she is, it was only a matter of time. His terror shows in the frozen angles of his small body, the wavering line of his mouth, and it takes every inch of his ill-formed restraint to prevent himself from crying out or from falling onto his knees before her, begging forgiveness for something he doesn't even have an explanation for.

But then she speaks, and that's not Her voice, and the terror of moments before is replaces with a new kind of fear, the fear of all that's different and unknown. It takes him a moment to form words around the icy lump in his throat, but eventually he forces them out, small and faltering.

"N-no...I d-don't think so..."