Melanie shakes her head, primed for action but rooted to the spot. The only thing that stops her from bolting back the way she came is the belated realization that she can't smell him. Even as he steps forward, there's no enticing waft of humanity. She drops onto her heels, literally floored, and glances between his hand and his face. E-blocker? But he doesn't smell like chemicals, either. She doesn't smell anything.

Before she can really process the sensory loss, he tells her they're dreaming, and Melanie puts a hand to the wall. It feels solid, steadying. But how else could she explain the scent loss, unless he's got a very strange rift power and is using it on her...

Melanie worries her lip between her teeth for a moment. "I don't normally dream," she says, sounding faintly accusatory. "And you don't understand. I'm dangerous." She gives his outstretched hand an uneasy look. "I could hurt you."