"Da, da," Her smile turns a little wry as she realizes she explained rather poorly. "It is the same, in Russia. But..." She hesitates, and then with a slightly frustrated flaily hand gesture she goes on in Russian, since the concepts don't translate well for her in English, and she still refuses to let the Bar do the translating for her.

(She still hasn't caught on, not really, that he isn't exactly a Russian speaker himself. Oops. Poor form, Katya.)

"The old stories, told by grandmothers for generations, about burning baby teeth and hair being used for hexes, they are true... for me, for my world, yes? I have been trained for... oh, since very little, very young. I probably could not do much, with that... maybe bad luck for you, for a time, I do not think I could to more, but it is worse than a little rudeness to not give warning, no?" She stumbles a bit through the explanation, because it has been so very long since she's had to.