Stavanger Bay so lay with me in your thinnest dress

Leokadia followed him along to the trees. The distance was significant, but not terribly so. The wound dried only to crack again with her movements and simply continue to bleed, and she sneered at the pain. The location was inconvenient, but she supposed the healer would help with that. 

Her eyes rose to the trees of the forest that carried simultaneously a foreboding and welcoming energy. Respecting and fearing the witch doctors of Warsaw, Leokadia felt an entirely different, but no less potent, source of magick here. She peered to her brother to see if he noted the same thing, though she herself became immediately reverent to it. Leokadia wondered what sort of heathen her brother had befriended to aid them this day, and felt only fortunate that he had fallen into their good favor. She imagined them hideous and ugly, a crone--as unbecoming as the doctors oft were! and prepared herself for that, growing stoic so as to not betray herself when their hideous features were revealed.