Vervain. He files the name away. He'll have to add that to the list of things he does semi-regularly around here, along with tallying up the days it's been and breaking all the mirrors that get a clear shot of his room on an hourly-or-so basis. They always mend themselves, but at least it puts them out of commission for a short while. He has a hammer he requested from the closets explicitly for that purpose. It takes him by surprise how easily he can visualize it, positioned by the door in case of an intruder. He wonders if it's dusty. Then he remembers he's only technically been gone a week.

He hums his acknowledgment, expression thoughtful. "How long does it last? Do I chow down on it once and I'm good to go, or do I wear a crown of the stuff, or what?"