"You wouldn't like this one. It's already half-rotten," she says casually while getting ready to stitch the fingers back on. It's not a neat job, but the thread is more just to steady the fingers before she holds the hand of the vampire in her own, runs her palms over the cuts and the flesh quivers and neatly restores itself. Rubbing a little of the van-van oil over the scar removes any trace of injury and makes the room smell of lemongrass.