He's going through her familiars like a knife through butter, and it makes her angry. Who is he to take them away from her? They're hers. A silent growl builds in her throat, and even if she can't voice it, her familiars do. The dogs echo her desires, and stalk behind him as he makes his way through the labyrinth, only lunging now and then. But for the most part, they're content to follow him up.

When he calls her name, it takes her a few moments to register it. Oh. The witch grips the underside of one of the roadways with her talons, and drops from one to the next until she's close enough for him to see her. She stops, inspecting him.