Foolish woman. Doeth thou dare think that thee can change the course of events that The Master has seteth? Ignorant wench, thou make me want to vomit green bile over thy anon to art carcass. An thou doeth not mind thy own business, then this wilt art so. I waiteth for The Master’s word so that I can peck thy eyeballs from their sockets and pop them liketh swollen grapes.
Mine talons hast dug hair and skin from thy puny head, giving Ulrich the properties he needs for his potions. Thou art expendable, senseless mortal, and I am sure thou already knowest this to art true. This is not the last timeth that thou wilt seeth me or become aware of mine presence.
Sleep withal one eye open, mine wretched one.