Tailing behind her, drinking in the way her hips swayed and her cheeks bounced beneath her clothing, Anon found himself stopping before another potion stand. Seeing Zecora fidgeting awkwardly in place, meekly looking over at him every few seconds, his mind began to wander. Her coming to any kind of potion stand made no sense. Unless she was sick, or somehow way too distracted to make them herself, she had no reason to buy some off other ponies. Heck, he was pretty sure she was the main supplier of potions to this very shop.