Severus spears a mushroom and a piece of steak together and pops them placidly into his mouth. Having silenced himself, he heaves a deep sigh and gives Rus a look of mildly exasperated yes, I can, and was trying not to while eating red meat, thanks...
"I'm talking about a break from sandwiches."
"I know you want to," he nods. "And I expect you've been trying. Do you think you might be able to intend not to for the duration of particular trips, though? One: I mean letting them to return to the wild, however diminished, to go on breeding and re-grow their parts where possible. It's like robbing wealthy merchants every year. Or taxes, sort of thing." A quick, amused smile. "Letting them pay for their lives with their bits." Completely ignoring Rus's solution to problem two, "I've no intention of settling for desperation customers, Rus," he scowls. "One does that only when desperate oneself, and too far gone to pretend otherwise, at that. It invites a completely unnecessary set of problems."
Severus drops his face into his hands. "I could swear you do this to wind me up," he groans, and looks up from between his fingers. "Look, if you want to spend your time transfiguring animal bones into attractive glass vials, by all means, waste not, want not, I'd use them. But the operative word would be glass. Bone vials are mainly for the idiot adolescents who wear black lace and lipstick and three-inch soles, and even then primarily as pendants."
He raises an eyebrow, and finishes chewing. "I suppose I could start some, although I don't currently have any boomslang skin or bicorn horn in stock," he concedes. "And no, the narwhal horn can't substitute. Even once started, you realize, it takes months."