She wouldn't have been able to remove it at all had man and cat not smudged the line. As it is, she's content to lounge against the arm of the couch as York does a little bit of clean-up, occasionally nudging a fallen bottle so that it rolls along the floor towards him.

"So you are a, reverse witch hunter? You reveal false heresies?" It's rather a turn up for the books. If magery wasn't held in high esteem, those that cast it were recluses, hunted down for the power at their disposal. It's clear however from the way her brow knits and the crest of scales along her forehead shift that she isn't familiar with the 'internet', or taping.

Still, if this is 'work', pity to waste it. "Perhaps save it for such a day that a summoning in your profession would be expected to work?" Samhain, perhaps, or the winter solstice. "People will only die if that is your wish," she gives a dismissive wave of a clawed hand. "You and I have a pact. Short of your death or mine, or someone of greater power forcing a break of the pact to turn me to their service, such things are unlikely."

Then green eyes blink, and she stares a long moment. She had requested a name. "Carolina," she repeats, as those testing it.