Sighing, he rose from the table and moved to place his mug in the sink. As he was passing by the window, he noticed a shimmer and then Loki and a frizzy-haired woman appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Strange felt a smirk lift the corner of his mouth at the realization of who the woman must be. The witch. The one who Loki was bound to. The one who had altered his soul so completely that he no longer resembled the wicked monster that wrought hell on New York City. As the two approached the house, Strange was determined to thank the woman.