An enchantress drops ingredients—which happen to be tiny men—into a smoking cauldron. She wears black robes trimmed in red with the front open to expose skin to below her navel. Her long hair is raven black and her skin is red illuminated by the fire. Both beautiful and frightening, she casts her gaze at the audience as wafts of smoke curl around her. She stirs her cauldron with what appears to be a human femur that has dissolved at the end nearest her witches brew. Her nails are like talons, the only ugly thing about her.