Totoka River so many names i devour

Oh, is how the other man responds to Witchdoctor’s honesty. He supposes this is better handled than others but it’s no consequence to the Witchdoctor what this stranger thinks of him. In the grand scheme of things, this meeting is a small matter and will not change his life in any measurable way. Their conversation switches off of him and his madness ( or well, it hadn’t officially been called that — out loud, at least — but it’s what it is and there is no sense in candy-coating it ) to the ragweed he has set at his paws. Witchdoctor’s fiery gaze flickers down to the unassuming plant he’d carefully uprooted and flash back to the stranger. “Very good,” The doctor purls, mildly impressed. “I will be, soon.” Witchdoctor speaks with the utmost and unwavering confidence in a matter-of-fact tone. “Botanist and Toxicologist.” He states his interests in the naturalist field. “Are you a naturalist?” He supposes that just by holding the knowledge of ragweed doesn’t necessarily make one a naturalist or even an aspiring one. There’s nothing wrong with knowing things about the other trades even if they’re not pursued. Witchdoctor shifts his weight, ears cupping forth atop his skull as he await the stranger's response.