Her laugh was the tired chuckle of someone who was enjoying the conversation, but knew full well she would rather be in bed.

"At least you've a few more skills to help you sort it, should the worst happen," Maeve pointed out. "After the undead, I would think a wee bit of devil's snare would be a walk in the park—or garden as it were."

Though she joked about it now, the walking dead man had struck a fear in her that the auror had never before experienced. It was the stuff of nightmares, and the witch hoped to trivialize it sooner than later.