Gren remains tense, eyeing her up like she's some sort of threat. Right until she starts looking so goddamned earnest about it all anyway. Then...well, then some cracks start to show in his resolve. The furrowed brow softens, just a touch.

"Look, Lady, I sure as hell haven't told you anything. I've never laid eyes on you before."

But a seed of doubt has been planted, it niggles in the back of his mind, though he does his best to ignore it. He shifts in his stool, casting a worried glance around the bar. Because she know his name, his complete and real name and she's a witch. Not always a good combo. At least she isn't a mundy.

"I mean- you looking for the Thirteenth Floor? You with those witches? Or like...do you work with Auntie Greenleaf?"