Action. Thought. "Speech."

Forgraves decided it was time to actually start practicing about 5 am this morning while tori was asleep and banshy wasn't visiting. he had to get all of this down somehow. he couldn't just keep guessing, or he wasn't going to get anywhere with this healer business. sheng had fallen asleep again and it wasnt like the edenfolk were really in the same place anymore all the time anyways. its been a while since he's last even SEEN sharp, and... well maybe its for the best he doesn't see james again. it's not that he dislikes the horse, but he doesn't need another lecture on how "magic is actually good" while he's trying to work.

he carried a small leaf satchel of sorts, dragging along base equipment he'd need. his flask, fastened tightly to his waist, felt heavier for some reason. he needed to keep a clear head.

he found a nice clearing by the river and some local flora, and unraveled the satchel onto the floor. he had his goggles on, and had slowly but surely figured out how the lens gears worked, and which lenses were good for what. the teeny lenses were good for seeing things that were small, finding dirt or other physical objects in wounds, or searching for infection or seemingly invisible injuries. there were varying sizes for varying intensities, and he usually figured when looking at plants he'd be using all 3 an equal amount. he got that down.

he had a selection of pre-determined plants. amongst his healing studies, he was going to complete the task he'd promised the blacksmith. he had been fussing over the logistics of even getting them underwater in a way that didnt involve broken shards of clay or glass. he'd settled on jelly-balls of tightly compacted, highly concentrated mixtures. all he needed to do was find that stupid plant..

of course, his luck was rather short these days. he couldn't just expect there to be no consequences for not gathering sap before, but truly, this was annoying. it seems the bush he'd found previously had been partially devoured by lessers. what a pity. oh well, patience is a saint's game. onward.

Action. Thought. "Speech."

forgraves was still having no luck, and he supposed he shouldn't be too surprised. the plant hadn't been seen anywhere but that bush before, but he doesn't exactly have the time to wait for the bush to simply grow back. if he had the magic to regrow it himself, or grow a new plant entirely, he would, but alas, he's not a magician, and he doesnt want to be.
how he wishes fairy was here... she'd have all sorts of cool spells. hell, maybe even if oliver were here he could show him some stuff. man, he didnt have alot of friends...

he kept walking sighing. he needed to find something eventually. if not that specific plant, something else that would work as a substitute.

Action. Thought. "Speech."

[roll]