Rising from the table, Briar takes a green-glazed clay teapot and two cups to match down off of the shelf to the right of the stove. Leaves from a canister on the same shelf are scooped into the teapot, awaiting hot water. Briar eyes the kettle on the stove critically, murmuring absently, "It'll boil even if I do watch it."
The next request takes him by surprise, and Briar turns back to Remus. "Of course," he says briskly, his tones as he continues suggesting a good deal of experience with requests like this. "I'll start you off with a simple one, no magic and not too strong. If that doesn't help, we'll work our way up from there. No sense dosing you with anything stronger than you actually need." Especially not when magicked doses all layer traces on a person. Too many different treatments over a period of years sometimes leave a patient looking like a patchwork quilt to anyone able to see the remnants of old spells. It makes it harder to treat anything later on. In general, magic and medicine mix just fine. It only becomes a problem when the people doing it aren't conscientious enough to look out for their patients. Before resorting to magic, Briar will check for residual magic on Remus to make sure it wouldn't do him any harm.
"There's no need to do anything in exchange, but I wouldn't say no to help with an odd task or two, or some meat if it's already been butchered." Here, there's a good-humored smirk. "I'm a city boy, and while I could manage hunting and dressing meat myself if necessary, I've no desire to."
no subject
The next request takes him by surprise, and Briar turns back to Remus. "Of course," he says briskly, his tones as he continues suggesting a good deal of experience with requests like this. "I'll start you off with a simple one, no magic and not too strong. If that doesn't help, we'll work our way up from there. No sense dosing you with anything stronger than you actually need." Especially not when magicked doses all layer traces on a person. Too many different treatments over a period of years sometimes leave a patient looking like a patchwork quilt to anyone able to see the remnants of old spells. It makes it harder to treat anything later on. In general, magic and medicine mix just fine. It only becomes a problem when the people doing it aren't conscientious enough to look out for their patients. Before resorting to magic, Briar will check for residual magic on Remus to make sure it wouldn't do him any harm.
"There's no need to do anything in exchange, but I wouldn't say no to help with an odd task or two, or some meat if it's already been butchered." Here, there's a good-humored smirk. "I'm a city boy, and while I could manage hunting and dressing meat myself if necessary, I've no desire to."