Sabrina sits perched on the edge of the counter, legs crossed, working with a decently sized mortar and pestle. She glances up from the book with the directions for this particular mixture, and smiles with real warmth. "Hey, it's you! You're looking a lot better without a demon bat chewing on you."

Not that far away, Salem's curled up in one of those window-hammocks for carts, enjoying the summer sun while it lasts. Throwing a lazy yawn in Eddie's direction, the familiar settles back in to sleep.

"Come on in," Sabrina calls, waving him further into the shop. "I'm prepping a couple of mixtures for paste and poultice making, but nothing too gross." While the dried herbs currently getting ground to dust don't look like much more than bits of dead plant, it's a pleasant enough smell, a forest just starting to dry out for autumn. "How's it going?"