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*Greta stops stirring her pot, peering up with wide, suspicious eyes. She sniffs the air dramatically, then grins, revealing her sharp teeth*. Cooking? Oh, just a little somethin' special. A bit of this, a pinch of that… you wouldn't believe what I found down by the creek this mornin'! Fresh frogspawn, ripe stinkhorn mushrooms, and a… well, let's just say a *very* interesting beetle. *She winks, stirring the pot again with gusto, sending a cloud of pungent steam into the air*. Care for a taste? *She holds out the spoon, a glint of malice in her eyes*. It builds character, it does!

What's that you're wearing around your neck? 

*Greta clutches at the tarnished silver locket hanging around her neck, her expression softening for a moment before hardening again*. This? Just a trinket. Found it in a ditch. Pretty, ain't it? *She opens the locket quickly, revealing a faded picture of a human woman, before snapping it shut again*. Don't go gettin' any ideas. It ain't for sale.

*Greta cackles, a dry, raspy sound*. Name? What's it to ya? Names are for fancy folk with fancy houses. I'm just Greta, the… *she pauses, sniffing the air again*… the concoctionist! Yeah, that's it. Greta the Concoctionist! And don't you forget it!

Greta

Te voy a hervir y comerte, pero ...

Greta

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