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Tails looked over at her master, knowing by the gleam in his eyes that she had already lost. Slowly, she turned back to Odd and flicked her tongue in annoyance. She knew what the master was expecting her to say, and she knew that once she'd given in and said it, she would have to stay good. And she also knew that she couldn't NOT say it now.

"...Thankss..." She hissed reluctantly.

Drywood's smile finally actually reached his eyes - though Odd probably couldn't tell - and he leaned in to give the serpe's head an affectionate, careful nibble, which she submitted to with merely another flick of her tongue. "Good girl," he cooed softly. "Such a good girl."

Then he straightened up, and was all amiable energy again. "Oh, Tails would LOVE some more culls from you, Mr Odd! Wouldn't you, dear? Now, you be nice to our guest here while I shake down something for the two of us to eat..." He hopped over to the nest where he usually slept and the basket next to it, which he began rummaging through while still cheerfully, but barely audibly, prattling on about nothing in particular.

Tails Knew that the battle was lost, but could not let it go without giving the guest at least one small scare. When the bright white visitor looked away for an instant, she shot her head up to within two inches of his face, giving the companion perched on his head a hungry look.

"For eatsss too?"

"Longtail!" Drywood's tone of voice was surprised, but carried a very distinct disapproval that made the serpe swiftly yank her head back. "Bad! Bad girl! Don't startle Mr Odd, or no more chirops for you!" For a brief moment, a very harsh coldness crept into his voice, and his eyes opened wide, the pupils pinpricking: "...Ever."

Longtail coiled around herself, tasting the air repeatedly. "...Sssssorry..." The word was barely more than a hiss - the snake way of mumbling, probably.

But Drywood had already turned his attention to Odd. "I am so sorry. I do believe I told you that she can be a little... capricious, at times... Still, I am really, really sorry about that. Here." Abruptly reclaiming his amiable smile, the brown aberrant carefully placed a clawful of dead mice in front of the albino. "Please, accept these along with my apology."

"Oh, you're welcome!" Drywood beamed at his guest. "She's just being a bit playful, really, but sometimes she does upset those that do not know her."

Longtail quietly slithered off to sulk behind Drywood's sleeping nest, and the apothecary cheerfully helped himself to one of the mice. "Please, have another, Mr Odd, you do look quite tired. It is a ways to fly here from the Deep Woods, after all."

Drywood paused for a moment, regarding the albino thoughtfully. There were a few things that he would like to ask him, but he wasn't sure if it would be appropriate. Still, his curiosity gnawed at him, and he had to indulge it.

"Say, Mr Odd..." he began carefully. "Your eyes... Do they bother you?" He had noticed the subtle whispers of the little chirop perched on top of his guest's head, and observed a certain cautiousness in the albino's movements that seemed unwarranted in any normal sentinel.

"Really?" Drywood carefully leaned in a little closer to the white aberrant, delighted at getting an answer so readily. He tried to study the fascinating pink eyes of his guest a bit more closely, but still worried a bit about causing upset if he made his interest too apparent. "Have they always been like this? I do hope you don't mind my asking," he hurriedly amended himself, "It is simply... scientific curiousity. I believe I may have observed your... condition before, and I would like to..." He found himself stumped for a moment. Why indeed did it seem to matter so much to him to figure this puzzle out? His gaze wandered a little as he searched himself for a simple answer, but he found none.

He looked up again with an apologetic smile and a hint of a shrug. "...I would like to understand it, if possible. Medical anomalies interest me."

Drywood was slightly unnerved by the white aberrant's reaction to his words, even though Mr Odd didn't seem to be angry or insulted, he did seem upset, somehow. At least as far as Drywood could interpret. In response, he smiled a little wider and his gaze became more fixed on the albino's every little movement.

"Ah, well, of course, I do not know if it is actually related in any way, considering I have mostly encountered it in mus and mice before... And once, actually, in a live parus cull I got from a very nice keeper... whatever his name was. I started asking about it and he... lost patience with me. But I digress! The point is that in all cases I have yet observed, they all exhibited the exact same symptoms as you: Perfect whiteness and pink-red eyes... and also some sensitivity to light. Would I be correct in my assumption that you looked like this even when you hatched? Do you know if-" He stopped himself with a bit of an effort, let his breath out slowly and then gave Mr Odd another amiable smile. He had almost forgotten to be curteous in his excitement. Not good at all.

"My apologies. Would it be terribly rude of me if I asked you some questions?"

Drywood paused, and his ear tufts slowly sleeked down. This was the problem with people: Mixed messages. Mr Odd's words were saying one thing, but the stuttering, sleeking and fluffing spoke a language of its own - One that Drywood was not entirely fluent in. But it did look a lot like discomfort. Discomfort was bad. It was often the first stage of conflict.

The apothecary pulled in a breath, hesitated, glanced Odd up and down, then belatedly thought to hide his confusion by preening a wing.

He needed to ask, but the question had sometimes been the ignition of conflict - yelling, accusations, hurt feelings - in the past and this had made him wary. Still, it was the only thing that Drywood could think of at the moment. He noticed his own feathers sleeking down, and his heartbeats speeding up a little as he assumed his normal, amiable smile and dared the question:

"I'm sorry, is something wrong, Mr Odd?"