"Well hello Azalea Harrington. Now why wouldn't I show up?"
"Well, I suppose it was too much to expect that the werewolves got you," the witch replied, an unexpected smirk crossing her face. Albeit light and tentative, it was there, signifying that this relationship was from before, and it least wasn't changed by the revelation that had turned the rest of her life upside down.
Here she could pretend better, because no one knew. Here she could try to shed off the skin of the deceased person and just be.
"But then again, you'd leave a bad taste in their jaws," she added, feeling more confident as she neared the immortal. Perhaps baiting him this early on wasn't the best but the witch was secure in her notion of an almost indestructible body.
As well as the fact that if she died today, it would be no great loss to anyone.