Itch-it-a-cop-it-a Mel-a-ka-mys-tic-a

"Mornin, ma’am." He gave a warm smile to the blonde, wondering why she was talking like she was from the middle ages. But considering Halloween was a week away…People tended to get into the spirit far to early anyway, so he wasn’t to surprised. 

"Oh yes, black is a very strong colour. Only the most powerful witches and warlocks dare wear such garments," Sarah informed him with a firm nod.

"Though... they were always the first to be burnt," Sarah sighed loftily, her thoughts carried back to her dearest mother. Burnt at the cross for delving into and teaching her three daughters black magic. Snapping out of her day dream she looked at him, a small frown dipped her brows at the costume comment.

"Thank you...?" She gripped the folds of her multicoloured dress fondly and swayed with them for a short moment when she suddenly gasped. 

"Thou dost not wish to eat me?" The witch asked, weary of this creature before her, though he did not express any hostile behaviour. That was a little reassuring. But he still had those large teeth that looked less than friendly. 

At the hand that was extended towards her, Sarah examined it carefully, her gaze darted between his hand and his face. It was large, much larger than hers, and clawed. Like Winifred's, except his claws were much more intimidating. Winnie's only scratched, his ones looked like they gouged. 

Even so, she still reached out to grasp his hand, or more specifically a finger. The pet name softened her greatly, any term of endearment towards her could melt her faster than acid. The fear that had been in her eyes soon turned to wonder, and a smile replaced her concern.

"Wow, um. So, you should spit that out?

Those things are dirty and disgusting a

woman like you, if desperate for food would

make an excellent geisha. The women who

will take you under their wing will groom you,

and fix you up nice.”

"Oooooh yes I know!" Sarah agreed earnestly, having failed to pick up that he was implying it was a bad thing. Examining her handful of insects and leaves hungrily, then promptly popped what appeared to be a centipede into her mouth. 

"A geisha?" The witch frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, sickly crunching noises came from her mouth.She had never heard of one of those before. Maybe Winifred would know, but since she wasn't there that was going to make things a little difficult. Maybe they were another type of witch?

"I am not a geisha! Silly little boy," Sarah chuckled as though it was the most obvious thing in existence, she shook her head at the absurdity of it all. Tossing her arms up into the air- and also the insects- she grinned at the boy. 

Damien,keeping his smile plastered on, took in a deep, rather brief breath as the witch spoke, trying to register all the excitement spewing forth. It might be putting him off but it's not like she was like that all the time. Just when meeting someone she...appreciated? That wasn't the word he was looking for but he'd figure it out later. 

"Oh, Mary and Winifred-" Sarah replied plotting it out on her fingers to make sure she didn't leave one out. In the daze of it all it was terribly easy for her mind to run away from her. 

"Mary has aaah... brown hair, red robes and uh... OH! She does this thing with her mouth," She continued to explain, hooking her finger to her bottom lip and pulled it down. "Like shish!"

Sarah grinned and pulled her finger out of her mouth, her gaze cast skywards as she tried to think. 

"Winnie has red curly hair- lots of it, and green robes and ah, teeth" she tapped her front teeth pointedly, and seemed quite proud of her ability to explain. She was never really the one to answer questions out of the sisters. 

"Oh shucks, well look at you all up in my space,"Damien chuckled awkwardly, taking a slight step back from the overly ecstatic woman. It was nice to see a follower of his father so devoted, didn't get much of that these days, so he kept from scampering off just yet. It was still fucking weird almost being hugged though.

Sarah at first could only giggle hysterically and press her knuckles hard against her mouth to try and compose herself- barely. Since returning from the grave once again and having little company without her sisters, she struggled to gauge what was acceptable behaviour. Especially without Winifred to put her in her place. With another hesitant laugh, she lowered her hand to speak.