"Oh." Greta raises her eyebrows. No one she knows refers to them as a 'dream sequence,' which makes her suspect he's not used to this particular sort of shared dream, but it sounds as if he's familiar with the concept, at least. That ought to make for an easier adjustment. "Yes, they--"

And then he's reaching for Angus, which certainly confirms he's new to at least some aspect of all this. Her dog starts back in surprise, paws scraping over dirt and worn stonework, and Greta reacts in tandem, one hand flying in front of Angus and the other - still bearing the torch - flailing towards the man before she catches herself and draws it back. God. It was a close call, but the last thing either of them need is for her to smack him in the face with a burning branch.

"Sorry," she gasps out as Angus sheepishly - and ineffectively - tries to hide behind her skirt. "It's, er, not a good idea to... do that. Touch other people's animals, I mean. It's not... comfortable." It hadn't been the worst thing in the world when Iman had done it, but Greta can't imagine having Angus touched by a stranger. Her face reddens, appalled by the thought of what could have happened, but plenty embarrassed over her own reaction.

Angus pokes his head out to look at the little, winged dog. "We can touch each other. That's all right. We just shouldn't touch any humans besides our own." He throws the man an awkward glance. "It's nothing personal," he adds politely.