Arsenic was picking his way across the caverns, on the way back towards the Gray Wings' nest. His packs were loaded to the brim with herbs and compounds, glasses and vials - so he walked slow and steady, never jostling anything too much. There was a red dun mare in the middle of the slightly worn path ahead. He frowned, and considered routing around. He didn't like to talk when he was set on a task. He LOATHED it. However there was no easy way around that she couldn't verbally pester h...