"The ones I trod on when I first got here," he explains, wide-eyed.
Rus scowls at him but obeys.
"I don't know what you mean by 'pure?" Rus asks, sounding irritated. "You don't measure fear like one of your potion ingredients. I was afraid of failing him and the cause and what he might do to me if I did."
"That doesn't mean I'm going to mind everything I say just on the off chance I might give you the collywobbles!'
"Why not?" he shrugs, taking another swallow of scotch. "It'll give me a chance to practice." He picks up his darts and closes his eyes, weighing them in his hand.
If you change your mind, give them a look. They're excellent books and funny too! Yeah. They have something called solanine in them. Soak a bunch of them in water and use the water to make her tea. Have a bucket handy. ;) Er, Happy Thanksgiving! Hold the eyes!