She doesn't say anything, at first, which allows for Fabrice's mind to come up with all sorts of possibilities for what she might say to him. Luckily, he doesn't have to process them, as Cecilia prods him over to a more discrete area with her steel-like grip. He winces briefly at the strength of it, but he follows, as he always does whenever Cecilia makes up her mind about something.

"Um." He hesitates, running a hand through his hair. "A few people. I mean, I was only at the edge of town when it happened, but there was a fair crowd. And I met another witch, too."

"I don't remember everyone who saw me," he says. "And as for the witch who did this to me, he's still in Oregon, last I checked. I hope. He was an asshole."