Not hearing any opposition to his claim on the amulet, the bull moves closer to the foul druid.  He steels himself before getting in too close, but seems untouched by the wave of nausea that most of his colleagues had to fight down.  “I’m of no help on that front.  I’ve no armor to contribute to the cause, myself, metal or otherwise.  It only gets in my way,” he speaks up, unclasping the amulet from around the woman’s neck.  He handles it rather gingerly, just in case, and steps back away from her before hooking it around his own neck.<br/>He also readies himself for another touch the wand while the elvish woman is making her rounds, and nods that he’s done so when she reaches him.  It takes multiple pokes and prods before he really feels up to snuff again, and he endures them patiently and not unappreciatively.  Eiyre is still healing Gorun when she makes her comment about just what poor eating the druid would make, getting a snort from the bull.  Whether the sound is agreement with her assessment, disgust at the thought of doing so, or amusement at comparatively weaker stomachs that couldn’t even get close without feeling queasy is hard to say.<br/><br/>Fort save:<a class="postlink" href="http://orokos.com/roll/140554">18</a>