He'd been dealing with the pain for more than a year. He'd use the herbs she sent if he really needed them, but only if he needed them. She'd given him hope even if she didn't realize it in the form of the idea that the curse may have stalled, which would mean while it didn't stop causing him pain, it at least wouldn't get any worse, no matter what it was he needed to do with it.

He could work with that.

And he was working on heading out, smiling amusingingly as the tote bag was thrust at him.

"You'd think I was feeding an army, lass." But he wasn't offended. "Not that I can protest."