Fear is never a option, so dying's not a real phobia

Caedes' ears twitched at the sound of fluttering wings, but he did not look up immediately. He continued his task, mechanically plucking herbs with deliberate precision. When the blue jay's voice cut through the silence, he paused, his eyes remaining on the ground as he listened to her chatter. Slowly, Caedes lifted his head, his dull emerald eyes meeting the bright, curious gaze of the bird. He regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable behind the skull mask that adorned his face. Her words were light and playful, the exact opposite to the heaviness that weighed upon him. His own relationship with his raven companion was strong, so he was more so inclined to respond to the feathered intrusion.

“We all have our uses for the resources of the earth,” He replied, his voice low and gravelly, a hint of the pain he felt echoing in his tone. “These herbs... they heal. They numb pain. Even a creature like me finds solace in their touch.” He shifted his massive frame slightly, adjusting his satchel with a practiced motion. “Your offer is appreciated, little one, but these tasks require a delicate touch and a knowledge of what each plant can do. Besides,” He added, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of amusement in his dull eyes, “I would hate to see you lose any feathers.” He moved to a new patch of herbs, setting his satchel back down and continuing to examine which he would be taking and which were better left undisturbed.