That inflames Anne's own anger, and she moved to step forward, only to quickly halt again at the sight of the giant wolf. Her hands quickly move to press tightly against her chest, as if that will protect them from it's jaws, even if she calls on the ire of the girl.

"I will forgive you your...misunderstanding. You speak to a qu— a q—" No, she still can't finish the word, and now she is embarrassed for having forgotten for even a moment. Frustrated at herself now more than the child, she takes a troubled step back to rub at her temple, brow furrowed. A way around it, a way around it...

"You must address me how you would royalty in your realm, child, even if you are not of England. My name is Anne Boleyn."