[Morrigan calms, nodding to the small cauldron set on the floor. The scent of wildflowers emanates from it. before continuing to grind what looks to be soaked then air-dried seeds of some variety. Some still sit in a tray elsewhere on her bedside table if he decides to take a look; he'll find that they're sunflower seeds. Cheese cloth and another pot, unused, sit on the table beside her as well.]

An old concoction that did wonders for one who had to wash their hair in boiled swamp water. [She answers, finally.] 'Tis a lengthy process, but I highly doubt the basics in the baths will do anyone's hair justice after how long we were...

[Her voice trails off and a hint of anger flashes in her yellow eyes before she stomps on it flat.]