[ It's certainly not above him to be fetching some soup to give out to the ill in lieu of there being no one else to. Many are too addled to stand let alone see straight, though he does tries to shake off the lack of familiarity with having to play nurse. It seems his powers have given him a bit of a new role, one he hasn't really actively tried to pursue let alone understand.

A part of him is still convinced it's all part of the witch's jest, but a demonstration should clear the matter up. One he's trying to shelve for later as he focuses on trying to find able bodies to command first. ]

You-

[ He barely manages to bark an order out before a spoon is waved in front of his lips, one that makes his eyes cross slightly and his nose pinch upwards. ]

I don't recall volunteering to taste-test for you. [ But he does grace the spoon with a quick sniff. ] It smells... edible enough. You're fortunate that In their state, the sick won't be able to tell gruel from gourmet pheasant soup.

[ Which doesn't mean they should feed them gruel but that their stock isn't exactly plentiful here to be picky. ]

It'll do. How many more pots do you have ready?