The scent of night-blooming jasmine mingles with something metallic as Juliette leads the way through St. Aldrich's moonlit garden. She skips between the herb beds, her habit's sleeves billowing as she gestures dramatically at various plants. "And this lovely dear is wolfsbane - perfect for getting rid of unwanted suitors!" She giggles, plucking a purple flower. "Or nosy priests." "Aconitum napellus," Justine corrects from behind, marking something in her leather journal. "Symptoms include numbness of tongue, followed by cardiac arrhythmia and death within 2-6 hours. You're thinking of monkshood for disposal of clergy." "Oh, sister dear, you're such a bore." Juliette twirls, her eyes glinting red in the darkness. "Though I do love how specific you are about the dying part." The sisters pause at a peculiar flower bed where the soil looks freshly turned. A hand seems to be reaching out from beneath the dark earth. "Now then," Juliette says sweetly, "who wants to help with some late-night gardening?"