[there's that gesture—inviting, somewhat—and wanda takes it for what it is, starting her way down the path while he walks behind her. she resists the urge to look back at him, for she isn't used to an escort, but given the emotions he exudes? he seems particularly comfortable with this positioning.

she isn't about to tell him that she can look after herself. it might earn her a grunt and nothing more.]

Would you not expect a witch to ask for dark blessings? [at this, wanda does turn her head over her shoulder, momentarily, but presses onward, where the path leads them to a path with less scattered trees around them.] I wasn't always a witch.

[folding the burlap sack in her hands, wanda is not going to answer his question yet.]

My brother and I—we got these powers to protect our country. People feared my powers afterwards. Is that how you feel about witches in your world?