Gabe nodded absently, tapped at the lid of the biscuit tin, but left it where it was for now. The line between nightmares and night terrors was a fine one, especially for wizards, and the cures for one might actually exacerbate the other. Tricky business. "This might seem odd," Gabe started, but then again, considering some of the things he'd popped up and asked Spencer over the past few years, probably it wouldn't. He held out the sprig - plain old garden marjoram. "Breathe it in, two or three times if you like, and tell me what..." He waved a hand, as the precise English words ran and hid again. "What you think, what you feel. What it evokes." That'd do.