When the woman spoke English back, Joanie was caught between relief and further fear. She knew very little about 1917 Russia, but she knew that dirty people with tiny minds liked to label anything they didn't like as a "witch" and set it on fire. If a woman turned you down? She was a witch, burn her. If a horse fell down on the job? It was a witch, throw it on the fire. If a cup got a hole in it? It was a witch, better light it up.
So she paused for a moment, trying to decide if she should turn back to this woman or just walk away. Realizing that she'd look like an even bigger ass than she already did if she left, she turned back to her, expression sheepish. "Well, I was kind of hoping that these people would be too dumb to notice." She glanced around them, seeing the townfolk beginning to ignore them and move about their daily rituals. Clearly, they had better things to do. Heaving a sigh of relief, Joanie smoothed a hand over her hair.
"But, let's get the pink elephant out of the way. Bellum, right?" She stuck out her right hand. "I'm Joanie."