There was nothing quite like the smell of rain and formaldehyde in the afternoon, Saunders thought to himself, as he sat cross-legged in front of a tea kettle, stirring it slowly. It was, he was happy to note, very nearly a unique thought. It didn't come up much. It was like a small adventure on its own. The kettle began to steam, and he peered owlishly into the depths.<br/><br/>He'd had a lot of orders lately, he mused. It happened, this time of year. Beyond the usual run of cold cures and warming solutions, he'd filled up the rest of his containers with an assortment of creative nastiness and other such potions. So right now, all he had left was a kettle. He'd have to go without his morning tea for a while, which was a shame. But this new brew was going to be exciting! He'd got the idea from some smelling salts he'd seen in a shop window the other day. The two tiny stones were in fact, slowly melting away in the mixture. They were the stand-ins for smell. The lovely formaldehyde was the base of the potion, he'd had to wear a mask just after he'd poured it in. After that, inspiration came swiftly. He'd been trying to figure out the recipe for a week now, but as was their habit, his muses woke up at the last moment.<br/><br/>He'd managed to acquire a bit of fox fur for touch, and a rather expensive brand of ground pepper for taste. After adding those two, the mixture was already starting to bubble furiously, threatening to escape the kettle, which made the next bit very tricky. Carefully, he exposed it to a black-light for sight, and brought out the recording of a hunting bugle he had prepared earlier for sound. The was already dying down, but the last two ingredients still needed to go in quickly, very quickly indeed.  A drop of his own blood was trickled in for spirit, and a very strong round of vodka for mind. Now, all he needed to do was focus and stir.<br/><br/>Just focus and stir. It was a quiet day. He didn't expect any customers for a while now. He could just sit here and do his work.