The Nurse and the Midwife

I need to take you in real slow
Dying on your lips is how I wanna go

Bart chuckles alongside her, though it's a bit more sheepish and rueful. "Yeah, probably. Can't be a dick if it means my patient's gonna suffer." Not that Phoebe hasn't been perfectly sweet, but Bart has never let sweetness dissuade him from shoving near everyone to arm's length preemptively with his barbed tongue and sour comments.

Standing and following in her wake a bit dumbfounded and uncomfortable at entering her house moments after meeting her, Bart keeps his distance and merely enjoys the way the temperature dips the moment he crosses the threshold. "Old ways made the path for new shit, and I ain't got the medicine I'm used to anyway. Been revisitin' my old lessons on naturopathy lately, so y'ain't gonna get judgement from me." All the same ingredients in the world - magic shit aside - were still in play, so it didn't matter to Bart what form they took.

He stands and waits, hands in his pockets, until she returns with her selection of items. Listens intently as she describes each one, sharp eyes memorizing appearances and uses. If he were a different, more misogynistic man maybe he would make her explain them or give their ingredients but if he didn't trust her work he wouldn't have come in the first place so he merely takes them gently. "If I do, it'll be from Stormbreak, much as I hate that damn place," he grumbles. "Which is a pain in the ass cuz the Grounds are closer to the Greatwood. I'll try'n give ya enough forewarning to get on a boat." Utterly unaware of the various abilities and resources at hand that could get her there any faster.

Clearing his throat slightly, he gestures with one of the bottles. "Thanks for these. What can I trade ya?" Care for his patient or not, he wouldn't be taking these for free. It wouldn't sit well with him.

So kiss me, you animal
And never let me go

Bart