"Y'know, aren't lairs usually less cluttered?"
Monsoon hummed in response, claws still clutching his staff as it stirred the mixture in his cauldron. "I could say the same for you, Iceberg."
The coatl in question choked on air, flailing for a second before retorting, "You're a potionsmaster, Monsoon. You're supposed to be neat and tidy!"
The imperial snorted, unwavering as he shoved a glass bottle into Iceberg's chest.
"This," he sighed, "is for Bun's hyperactivity."
"Aww, thanks wizard."
"Not a wizard," Monsoon growled, plunging his staff back into the cauldron with a bit more force than what was strictly necessary. "Now get out! I don't want to see your sorry face for another three months, you hear me?"
"Aye aye, wizard!"
With a sigh, Monsoon brushed a cobweb from his shoulder.
"Youngsters, the lot of them," he huffed fondly, turning back to the familiar herbal scents of his workshop.