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Drywood hummed a cheerful tune to himself as he trudged out of his dear old chestnut tree, onto the wide, worn branch that substitued as his porch. He was fresh out of mus again - Tails had eaten half of them, and the rest had unfortunately not gotten the right dosage - but he was pretty sure that he was getting somewhere now, if he could just try a few more times then he could soon move on to the Parus.

Struck by a sudden insight, he turned and walked back inside.

"Tails!"

A flat head slowly rose out of the heap of greyish ringlets that lingered near the opening, turning its cold, black eyes on the apothecary.

"Ah, there you are. I'd really appreciate if you didn't eat my parus while I'm out. I'll be needing them later."

A long, forked tongue flicked out at the brown sentinel, and after a moment the serpe opened her mouth to answer:

"Yessss..."

Drywood gave his compaion an appreciative nod. "Thank you." He turned to leave again, but stopped and glanced back just as he was about to exit. "I won't be gone long."

The serpe's black, unreadable eyes were still fixed on her master. "Yessss," she hissed again. Drywood gave her another brief nod, and jumped out into the night.

Now, where best to start looking for fresh mus? Of course, he could go to the keepers, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to handle the conflicts that might arise. Searching by himself meant more work, but less possibility of trouble... and he felt slightly disinclined towards the latter, tonight. Besides, there was nothing wrong with a bit of good, honest hard work. He fluffed up his feathers and took a deep breath of the night air. Seemed like a good night to go for a hunt.

Drywood hadn't flown far from his home when he spotted something rather peculiar through the branches. A large, black blob that sat perfectly still on the rather thin branch of an oak. With a slight tilt of his wings, he veered off to investigate.

Circling the oak once, he decided that it was probably not a living thing, or at least no living thing that he had ever encountered before. Its perch seemed a tad precarious, but he decided to set down anyway. He wasn't a very large sentinel, so it would probably hold for him.

The branch swayed a little under his feet as he touched down, and he glanced at the shapeless, black blob. It didn't seem to be about to fall, so he wasn't ready to dismiss the idea that it could, somehow, perch, and was therefore some sort of creature. As he edged closer, however, he finally saw the thing's texture, and gave an amused little snort. It was a sack. How interesting.

Though he did want to find out what was in the huge, black bag, he realised that opening it here would most likely mean spilling its contents all over the forest floor, and besides, he now had a slightly more acute concern.

There was a tresspasser in his territory. Why? Obviously not one who sought his help on some medical matter, because he would have encountered them on his way from the chestnut tree. Well, they would have to return for their sack sooner or later... Drywood's keen eyes scanned the area around and below him, and caught a movement. The unmistakeable wingspan of a Shadow sentinel caught the light of the moon for an instant, reflecting back a smooth glow.

On such a low level of the woods, the unknown tresspasser must be hunting. The apothecary thoughtfully raised his ear tufts. It was certainly not good manners to hunt on another sentinel's territory, and by all standards, Drywood should immediately swoop down and defend his hunting ground with beak and claws, but that didn't feel properly civilized either... His ear tufts sleeked back for an instant as he got a terrific idea, one that hopefully meant no combat, but complete satisfaction for both parties.

As long as the other was willing to see reason, of course. Well, he might as well give it a shot. If push came to shove, Tails wasn't too far away.

"Ohoy there!" he called out into the darkness below. "Did you know that you are hunting on someone's territory?"

Impeccably amiable as always, Drywood returned the other's smile, pleased to know that the large Shadow hadn't invaded his territory with any hostile intentions. A fight with this one could have become quite troublesome. He curtly bowed back.

"And a good evening to you as well. My name is Drywood, I don't believe we have met?" His demeanour never once shifted from the amiable politeness as he carefully addressed the other's social faux pas: "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed to be hunting in my territory, so I felt it only fair to let you know that someone lives here."

He really hoped that he didn't come off as sarcastic or confrontational with his last statement. Sure, the vast majority of other sentinels would probably have attacked the intruder without so much as a fair warning first, and those who didn't do that would probably have glared and yelled a fair lot more, but the friendly behaviour of the Shadow male had given Drywood hopes of a peaceful solution, one that would have himself home and back at his experiments a lot sooner than he had originally planned.

The apothecary keenly watched the dark sentinel for any reaction or clue that could tell him how best to progress from here.

Drywood shifted his feet, immensely pleased by the turn events were taking, and slightly amused by the larger male's panicky-apologetic reaction. He had a strong position now, and there was no reason not to cut directly to the chase.

Spreading his wings slightly, the brownish aberrant ducked in a somewhat apologetic fashion - though he never took his eyes off the other.

"Oh, no need... CloudChaser, was it? No need at all, I have not been disturbed." He pondered for a moment trying to familiarize a bit further with the Shadow by saying something about his name, but since all he could think of was that it made him think of an unhealthy obsession with the Above, he decided that it would probably be better if he didn't. Besides, he did intend to cut to the chase, didn't he? He settled down again, sending CloudChaser an open-beaked, amiable smile.

"In fact, it is rather fortunate that I met you here tonight. I just so happen to need some help on a certain matter, and if you would be willing to assist me, I would not only let you hunt here - you must be hungry, after all, to leave your... sack... here-" He motioned vaguely at the great black blob with one wing. "- I will even show you the very best places to find mus. Do you like mus?"

He tilted his head slightly to the side, underscoring the questionmark with what he hoped was a disarming, inviting gesture.

Drywood straightened up and raised his eartufts in a semblance of enthusiasm.

"Oh yes, it is a small matter, really. All I need you to do is to catch a couple of live mus for me while you are hunting. I will join you myself, so it won't take long at all." He looked CloudChaser up and down, gauging the other's strength - and considering that he had been flying a fair bit already with the black monstrosity of a sack... While he had the opportunity to gain some help from this strapping young lad, why not take the chance to restock a bit?

"If you'd like, I will lend you a gatherer's pack that I have at my home - makes it a lot easier to transport them. You can leave your bag there, too. Tails will look after it, I'm sure."

He threw a sidelong glance at the sack, taking his eyes off of CloudChaser for the first time. "What is it you have in there?" he asked with genuine curiosity, but quickly amended himself: "If you don't mind me asking."

Flapping and hopping over to stand next to CloudChaser, Drywood peeked with interest down into the dark depths of the bag. It was an interesting artifact, of course, but as soon as the mystery of the thing was gone, it wasn't that terribly interesting anymore. The brownish aberrant tilted his head to the side and hummed non-committally while CloudChaser explained what he was going to do use it for.

Give it to a fledgling... well, that was probably the best thing that he could do with it, actually. It looked like an ideal plaything for a crafter - or an aspiring one, for that matter.

In other words, completely uninteresting.

He perked up again and turned his keen orange-tinted eyes back to the Shadow when the subject of mus came up again. He smiled. "Oh yes, it is most important that I get them alive - and, if possible, uninjured. Tails is my companion."

Drywood noticed the slant of the other's head and let his smile deepen a bit, hiding the apprehension that slowly seeped into his chest. He never knew how other sentinels would react when they found out about his experiments, and he had been so fortunate in avoiding conflicts up until now... But he had never been a very good liar, so he pulled himself together and did his best to tell the truth in what he hoped was a favorable light:

"Ah, you see... I need the mus alive for a little project of mine. I'm trying to develop some new medicines, and I'd rather not test the experimental product on a fellow sentinel."

Delighted that his little admission had been so well recieved, Drywood proudly fluffed himself up a little under the admiring eyes of the younger sentinel.

"Yes, apothecary it is. Though, I wouldn't say it's all that amazing... hm? Oh no, no trouble at all. It was I who suggested it, after all."

When CloudChaser laughed, Drywood briefly joined him, but cut himself off a bit too fast. He had been told that he had an... unpleasant laughter - as if somehow lacking in something - but had never been able to hear what would be so wrong about it, so he tried to mask it within the Shadow's own sound.

"Oh, I hardly think we need to worry about that," he said, sounding as good-natured as possible. "If they belong to someone they would probably be smart enough not to run around in my territory - and I don't have many neighbours in the first place. As for catching them alive, it is very easy: Just don't skewer them on your claws and you should do fine. I recommend grabbing them by the tail."

He launched himself off the branch with a cheerful: "All ready? Then let me show you the way!"

He did feel rather cheerful. Everything was going splendidly. Now he only hoped that Longtail could behave herself, too.

*
The serpe, on her part, was waiting. Only the tip of her stubby nose rested outside the gaping opening into the gigantic, dead old chestnut tree, the rest of her was pleasantly concealed by darkness. She was a bit hungry, and had pondered nipping out for a bite to eat, but as usual she had decided that she wanted to make sure that master came home safe and sound before she left, so she waited.

Every now and then, her long, slick tongue darted out and flicked through the air, tasting the night and everything that the wind carried with it. It was a fine night, with the promise of plenty of tasty tidbits running around, warm, soft and unsuspecting. She coiled a bit tighter around herself in anticipation. Maybe master would bring her some when he came back.

It was impossible to distinguish for an untrained eye, but Longtail was a very happy serpe right now, content with the world and patiently waiting for her dear master's return.

((Sorry that this is a bit long, but I thought it best to include a brief description of how I picture Drywood's home, since I don't have a territory for him yet.))

The dead old tree was, as so many other trees in Noctua, rather gigantic, and almost completely hollowed out from the top to half way down it's massive trunk. It would easily have fitted an entire family, without anyone stepping on the other's toes. Drywood used merely two sections: the "lower level" with a sentinel-sized entry hole (that he had improved slightly upon) where he slept and recieved the occational visitor, and the "upper level" which was a bit better ventilated due to enthusiastic woodpeckers, where he kept his precious poisons and conducted his experiments. The "workroom" could only be reached from the inside - unless, of course, one was a serpe. Then one could use the hole up close to the "ceiling", which just so happened to lead out onto a superb branch for sunbathing.

But now it was night, and Longtail was still resting inside the hollow, leisurely guarding the main entryway.

She easily recognised the shape and sound of her master as he returned, but she noticed that not everything was as it should be. The moment that talons met bark she knew exactly what it meant that her master had returned so soon, and she pulled completely back into the darkness of the hollow. He had brought a guest.

"Guest" and "visitor" were words that she knew, and she used them the same way that sentinels used curses. To her mind they were a bothersome lot that had no place here, and she resented the fact that even though they sometimes seemed to agitate her master, she was not allowed to dispose of them, even though she easily could have. She uncoiled her long body and slipped away soundlessly, demonstrating her disapproval by hiding.

For now.

*
Drywood hopped enthusiastically up to the doorway, chatting with CloudChaser over his shoulder. He was delighted - this sentinel understood! "Oh yes, I do find it terribly interesting! The living body is such an intricate, fascinating system - the slightest nudge in one place, and it could all fall apart... or be balanced again. It's really all a matter of dosage, you know..." He popped his head into the gnarled chestnut tree and looked around. "Tails? Tails? Where are you? ...Hm, it seems like she's gone outside for a while. Well, no matter. Step in and leave your thing here, and I'll see if I can't find that gatherer's pack somewhere..."

He hopped inside, not really bothering to see if CloudChaser followed him, and flew up to the higher level. He was sure that he had left the pack up there, somewhere close to the parus cages. The little critters had been chattering quietly amongst each other, but fell silent as soon as he appeared and followed his every move with nervous eyes. He didn't care: it was their standard greeting, as far as he was concerned.