Nevin frowned and shot Sketch a look out of the corner of his eye. That didn't seem accurate, or right, not from what he 'knew'. But.... This wasn't the first time that the things that Sketch summoned, the Grym, turned out to be more than they appeared. That dwarf one had somehow learned about minerals it hadn't know before, in time to prevent Sketch from burning Plynt up. And now - now this one was apparently completely not under his control? And in fact, was here, attacking people of her own volition? No, Nevin was fairly certain that there was more to the Grym than Sketch knew - or at least more than he was willing to share. Considering Nevin himself had a few secrets under his sleeves that he hadn't shared with the other man, he couldn't particularly blame him, he supposed.
Still, he shrugged and shook his head. "As an herbalist, I am skilled. However as a true Alchemist, I am lacking, as I have yet to pick up any of the transmutative arts. Books dealing with that subject are Cobalt-taken hard to find." He stood up, rolling his shoulders to work out some of the kinks that had settled in as he napped under the tree. With a happy trill Aphrael swooped down and landed on his shoulder, her massive wingspan settling around his head for a moment before she folded up her wings and played a happy trill of pipes. The alchemist rolled his eyes at her but didn't translate what the impertinent little bird had said. Something was bothering him, a tension in the air he couldn't quite place - it certainly wasn't from either of the present men. While he was curt, Lorenor didn't seem actively hostile, and Nevin knew Sketch wouldn't want him hurt - Nevin knew how to make the medicine that would let the man sleep.
A mental urging to Aphrael, and the enormous crow took off into the air, wings beating as they carried her up into the sky.
