Ford tensed at his brother's wait, wondering if he was going to put up a wall at this or maybe even ask Ford to leave entirely. What he said was something Ford could work with, though, and it didn't even seem like an unreasonable restriction born out of this tension they'd been nursing for over a week.

"Okay, sure," he agreed, turning his attention back to the shelves. "This. That one. This…" he began, moving through and pointing things out as he saw them. He'd probably forgotten a few, but hopefully Noble could at least give him a vague idea of what they'd do. This was the first potion Darrow had brewed, the one he'd taken himself that had caused such a dramatic change in his demeanor. One key ingredient was missing, but since Darrow had made such a fuss over it at least Ford knew the name.

"... and witch's ganglion leaves," he concluded. He crossed his arms and leaned against one of the countertops. Ford bit his lip and his eyes sliding from the pile of ingredients to his brother, waiting for his assessment.