The crone hadn't questioned the Viking's request. He had explained the meaning of a vampire ceremony, and she had agreed to it. He could adapt; Baba Yaga wouldn't bother with him if he couldn't, but he was still a creature of tradition. It was simply who he was, and she accepted such.
Once she was close to her intended, she pulled a knife from the folds of her skirt. There was a slight thrill that some might not expect such an action for a bride to make upon greeting her groom. The knife was copper, greening from age. Designs matching those in the Viking's crown seemed to dance and slide over the ancient metal as the seemingly young woman brandished it for only a moment.
"I bring a gift for you." The smile that only he and the cowboy could see held so many emotions, no doubt the groom could feel his bride's amusement as much as her lust and perhaps a hint of fear. Words were strong, and they were being overseen by one very strong creature. If they included the City, two very strong creatures. The crone didn't think that the newest to Eric's family might feel something more in this - he was so very young - but they did seem to have a strange connection, didn't they?
Without further words, she turned the knife, offering Eric the hilt. There was such trust as she waited. He could back out any moment, though she doubted he would, or he could use the dulling edge to kill her. But, she offered the knife all the same.