He was accustomed to a certain Aurellian distrust of Clovennian advancements. Beau supposed idly that it was only their spread out nature that protected them from largescale epidemics considering how little they seemed to care about developing true medicine. "Clovennian Doctors." He answered easily, adding soil to the pot. "Though I suppose should we run out of aspirin and find ourselves in dire straits, it could be used here too." Beau's tone held a very mild sardonic amusement, glancing up briefly as the song came to an end and the record needle tilted in. "Thank you, Miss Morrigan." He said as she flipped the record and excused herself, turning his gaze back to his transplants.