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Drywood nods contemplatively at Lichen's explanations, following his patient inside and all the while following the fledgling's every move with keen interest.

"I see, I see... Yes, yes, she was lucky indeed - No medic but you could possibly have mended such an injury, Miss Lichen. None but the best." His flattery is actually entirely unintentional, since his attention is so intensively fixed on Craneberry. The injury explains her awkward movemtns perfectly. It could be stiffness, lack of flexibility - if it was insufficient muscle growth, Miss Lichen would surely have noticed that and been able to help, somehow, so that couldn't be it. A relaxant, perhaps, would do the trick... A gleam of scientific ire lent his amiable smile an unmistakeable glow of excitement.

This was starting to get interesting.

---

Longtail felt, rather than saw, the three sentinels enter the hollow, and lazily made out that one of them was significantly smaller and lighter than the others. Just about the right size for a snack, actually. Not that she was hungry right now, but one tended to take notice of these things.

And then she realised that the small visitor was approaching her. Despite the obvious difference in size and power between the two of them, the movement was so unexpected that the serpe instinctively slid her head along her glistening coils to face the visitor directly, curiously flicking her tongue out a few times in order to better identify the warm, feathery little thing.

The fledgling jumps a few steps back in alarm as the thing moves.

"What is it?" she peeps, before regaining control of her voice, "Do you use it for medicine?"

She cocks her head, remembering a lecture. The teacher was well meaning, but her speech about how horrible and nasty Serpe were and how they should be avoided at all costs only served to make her students more curious.

"A snake, no a Serpe," she whispers and takes a tentative step closer to the companion, "Is it poisonous?"

Craneberry can't imagine that a trained companion would hurt her, but she isn't stupid. She will not touch it or go any closer without permission.

Craneberry listens in awe, and the companion's name and use is filed away. She is just about to ask Drywood how the Serpe helps him measure when the companion speaks.

"Issss not 'it'. Rude vissssitor."

Craneberry shrinks back a bit, and she bobs her head, uncertain of what the Serpe is capable of. The companion's speech sounds a bit like an angry Sentinel, and the fledgling is not sure if it's supposed to sound like that or if it's just very angry.

"I'm sorry Longtail," she says, "I did not know you were a girl."

Tails. Craneberry memorises this. The Serpe seems a bit less scary now and she decides that the "For-give" means that she is not angry, despite all the hissing. It's a strange and alluring creature, the Serpe. No paws to walk with, no wings to fly, and Craneberry is curious about how this shiny, hissing creature can even move around. Tails might have tiny lizard feet hidden under her coils, but Craneberry is not going to look for them.

"Do all Serpe hiss instead of talk?" she asks before she can stop herself, and then she blurts out the other question she's been thinking about, "How can i.. she... Tails. How can Tails measure?"

Drywood blinks a few times in surprise at the unexpectedly honest question. It is one he has never encountered or indeed even considered before, but now that it has been spoken, it seems so obvious. Maybe that is why so many guests have been deterred by his darling serpe - the sharp, hissing sounds she makes when speaking could so easily be misinterpreted as aggression.

Drywood takes a moment longer than neccessary to answer, as he looks at the little girl before him as if with new eyes. When he does answer, it is in a quiet, slightly amazed murmur:

"Well... I believe they do. I can't say that I have met every kind of them, however, so... I can't be sure. But my Longtail do." His ear tufts, having sleeked back somewhat at his earlier surprise, slowly rise again as he subtly shuffles a little closer to the fledgling, ducking his head to come closer to the level of her eyes.

"How she measures?" There's a brief sparkle in his eye, and he pointedly glances off to the side, towards the far wall. He is very proud of his method, and there's an unmistakable note of excitement in his voice: "Why, do you see those rocks over there? Painted in different colors?"

There they are, neatly lined up against the wall and arranged according to weight, rather than size. The largest ones are not much bigger than his own head, but then, he has had to bring them all up into the tree by himself, and strength is... somewhat lacking in his own persona. Physically as well as in Will. But there are lots of them now, carefully chosen and meticulously marked with simple but distinctive colors that he managed to concoct all by himself.

His glance returns to the fledgling, eager to see if she is as interested in his method as she should be.

Drywood lets out a rather curt but unmistakably pleased chuckle at the fledgling's hesitant statement, and hops a little closer, himself. Stretching himself up in his full, though not too impressive, height, the Apothecary proudly gazes at his colourful rocks.

"Indeed they are not! An astute observation, Miss Craneberry! No, you see..." He folds down again, and can't help but bob his head in an almost fledgling-like excitement. "All of these yellow rocks, every one of them, are actually exactly as heavy as the other! The same goes for all the others! All red rocks weigh exactly as much as the other red ones, as do the blue ones... here!"

Drywood hops - or perhaps "bounces" is a more appropriate term - over to the far end of the rock pile, and levitates a white-painted stone, not any bigger than a sentinel's eye, holding it out to Craneberry with his Will. "Feel this, and compare it to another white one, any one of them!"

Drywood's smile falters as his eyes meet those of the little fledgling, and his ear tufts fold back only slightly in a fashion almost comically similar to Craneberry's current posture.

Oh my, oh no... he recognises that sleeking of the feathers.

"Um..." He quickly plants the grin back onto his face, though it looks a slight bit funny with his ear tufts still so low against his skull. "Ah, I do apologise. How thoughtless of me. I got so excited I didn't even... I completely forgot that you were..." In his eagerness to make that terribly unnerving expression on the girl's face go away, he trails off into uncertainty. What sort of expression would NOT make the situation even worse? Weak? Undeveloped?

The rock in Craneberry's beak recieves a slight tug, letting her know that he has it. "...so young?" he finishes somewhat lamely, tilting his head slightly to the side almost as if asking her if that is the correct terminology to use.

This is something new, and Craneberry is momentarily puzzled before Lichen speaks up. Drywood is not acting in a way she recognises. He's not stern and scary like Barkbeak and he doesn't scold her like her Minders would have done. Her eartufts rise slowly and she tilts her head to one side, not entirely convinced that's she's out of trouble just yet.

"We... we can see about finding someone to help you train your Will, after Drywood has helped you with your wings. Strength isn't everything, I doubt I'd be able to lift any of those larger rocks myself."

"We could?" Craneberry asks eagerly. She haven't really considered her Will until recently and she has missed many of the will lessons. Teachers are sometimes unsure if they should teach her with fledglings her age or group her with younger ones, and this confusion has resulted in several gaps in her education.