It was only after Agatha had put hands to her face in exasperation that the Scarecrow considered he might be overthinking his fears (though her now-ruined reading material might say otherwise). She sounded fairly reasonable for someone who had been so frightening before, and unlike the Mangled Witch, she was wearing the same smiling uniform he was. Maybe she wasn't a bad witch after all, or maybe she had been like Mele, tricked into attacking her fellow patients. That certainly would make some sense.

The Scarecrow gave Agatha a nod, still keeping low in his seat in the event she changed her mind and he needed to duck under the table for safety. "I s-saw you, just barely from down the hallway as you were talking to my roommate," he said nervously, hoping she wouldn't incinerate him for even bringing up the subject. "I thought you had to b-be awful dangerous with whatever magic it was you were using, since he turned and left without a fight. He's not the sort to back down from just anything, believe me."