"Er, yes?" He winces, feeling a sudden surge of embarrassment. Really, Fabrice only has himself to blame, allowing himself to become so defensive. If he'd actually used reason, he could have avoided this entire situation altogether.

"It was a bar in Oregon," he admits, figuring he should at least provide his cousin with the whole truth. "This man was making crude remarks about animals he'd killed for sport." To say nothing of his objectification of women. Fabrice tends to hide from confrontation when he can, but something about this witch only further fueled his ire.

"I don't know," he admits. "I've been researching possible cures, but nothing seems to work."