Shivers ran down Helga's spine as she listened to Mark talking, though she had enough politeness to slice out two nice pieces of cake, and place them onto each plate. Only then did she carefully place the knife away, so that it could not accidentally slip off the table or hurt someone, and she gestured softly towards the cake. "I do hope you enjoy it. And that... Sounds scary." she admitted, placing the tips of her fingers onto the newspaper and softly drawing it towards herself. What it described... Ghouls, werewolves, all those things that she, in her childhood, considered nothing but fairytales. And though she knew far well that they were real by now, she never considered them something but a distant thing, something that would have nothing to do in a small village like Stengelsrud.<br/>She closed the book, and pushed it back towards him, lips pursing. "Yes, it's a scary thought."<br/><br/>She sank the small fork into the cake, and took a while, thinking the newcomer over. "He wasn't much out of the ordinary." she shrugged afterwards. "Much like most of the wealthy city people, expensive clothes, expensive shoes, smile like an advertisement for toothpaste." she chuckled softly, her hand with the fork sinking back down. "He asked me whether I live here, and said he likes this place. Bjarte Storsvärd, he said he's called. A tall blonde boy." she explained calmly, recalling everything she remembered of the stranger. "It must have been one of the children of the actual owners, he was too young to have even finished university."