"The witches are..." Awful. Okay, no, that doesn't explain anything. He makes a face, trying to piece it together in his head in the simplest way first. "So, the boss-witch of that group brought fae binding back in to style. We're s'posed to be allies. They help us with vampires, we help them with fae. But they ain't very good allies so far." Not only does he find them untrustworthy (how can anyone trust a group that forces another to be their battery packs?), he thinks they're incredibly selfish. They've done a lot of taking and no giving. "You keep away from anything Daybreak. Especially Samantha and her little white spy-cat, hear me?"

He gives her a pretty stony look after that, because he is very serious about this, until he's sure she understands the importance of the situation. Then he sighs, his expression softening in to something dangerously close to sheepish. "Uh, yeah. It's been a little while, I guess." This is still weird for him to talk about, so of course, he works out that awkward feeling by looking down and beginning to tear pieces off of his hotcup lid. "Some years." He shrugs.

Thankfully he's only started shifting semi-recently, because he has no idea how he'd have kept that shit under control by himself. Probably would've ended up just as crazy as the lone motherfucker that bit him in the first place. Pack's definitely the way to go. "I think you guys'll like 'em."