Caterina was more than willing to help a fellow citizen of the island. The prospect of receiving a massage herself was only further motivation for the woman to stop by the man's room. She dressed herself relatively nicely, in light shorts and a white button down shirt. After weeks and weeks of working as an escort, it was a habit of hers to dress up for any occasion. She had a feeling she wouldn't be going to some five star restaurant, or even need to impress the man very much with her choice of attire. If she was going to give him a massage, she'd need to be comfortable herself.  She gathered her things into a purse, carefully placing the bottle of oil inside the largest pocket, and headed out the door.

Caterina let her eyelids flutter shut as she felt his fingers graze her skin. She let a soft sigh pass over her lips as she tried to keep herself focused on the incredibly odd situation at hand. Granted, since arriving on the island, every experience went from odd to completely surreal. She had had her fair share of enticing ventures into a world of dark pleasures, more than enough to share with the boy if she needed to. She forced her eyes open and glanced over at the man. "I'd say not knowing and trying to get it right the first time, but I may be a bit biased, since that's what I'm trying to do now."

Caterina let out a soft, languid sigh as she turned on Danse Macabre written by Camille Saint-Saëns. It was one of her favorite pieces, one she slaved over to choreograph before deeming it near perfect when she was thirteen years old. 

The composition was based off of a poem on an old French superstition revolving around Death playing a tune every Halloween, at midnight. He trailed through cemeteries and drew temporary life into those already dead. According to the superstition, Death summoned the skeletons and had them dancing for him until the break of dawn, when they must return to their graves again.

It was a piece that piqued her interest, and as the tempo of the music slowly became more erratic, Caterina took the time to stretch out her limbs. She stretched her arms above her head and reached for the ceiling as she spread her legs knees-length apart. Then, with one fluid motion, she rolled her torso to fully stretch out her shoulder muscles and leaned forward to stretch out the muscles in her lower back and upper thighs. From there, the brunette let the music take over, as if Death himself was controlling her every limb. Her fingertips trailed across her skin, and as the tempo picked up, so did her movements. Once flowing gestures became more rigid and violent as she twisted and turned like the skeletons she envisioned within her mind.