Lusk's fresh herbs lay splayed out, barely organised. He'd only turned his back for a moment, apparently enough time for a trainee to tromp in and begin snorting them like they're fresh-cut freesia. His hackles raise in irritation, wide eye turning to stare over at Pistachio, awaiting her to realize he's watching her so carefully, so coldly.

"...Enjoying yourself?" He questions, voice devoid of much emotion at all.

"Is that so?" He questions, pulling his large form up onto all fours. He plucks the borage up to bring it over to the rest of his collection, dropping it down besides the burdock root. It's some of the last he could find. Borage tends to struggle with growth nearing the colder months, vanishing almost entirely under the blankets of frost that crack the earth in the early mornings.

"Do you know anything of herbs yet?"

"I see." Lusk grumbles, dipping his head to continue rearranging his herbs. "So you still have a long ways to go. You'll need to get someone to train you soon enough, before leafbare rolls in. Herbs become scarce, and you can't learn much without herbs."