Anyway, why question what was obviously the will of the gods? Even most fools knew better than to do that.
He rummaged around some more in the bag.
"Ah!"
He pulled out a soft leather pouch as large as his gnarled hand, and measured some powder out into his palm. He looked up at the boy, seeming to estimate his diminutive size and stature visually, and then poured out a good deal more, peering down and studying the exactness of the amount with a frown as he openly took the time to gage it's weight against that of the young boy.
"A little wine is needful," he said, raising his hoary, bewhiskered old head and looking around vaguely at no one in particular.
At the sight of the Physician waiting patiently with the powder already measured out into his sweaty palm and ready to be administered, Habrunt turned to one of his boys and clapped his hands sharply with a terse nod.
"Do not keep the great Physician waiting!" he admonished sternly. "Get white wine if you can, or red if you must."
"Aye, Master Habrunt!"
The boy raced off at a dead run, presently to return staggering under the weight of one of the flasks meant for the party-goers.
The Physician took a small cup from his purse, dropped in the powder, and Habrunt assisted directly by taking over from the boy and pouring in the clear, fragrant fruit of the vine. Si'Wren watched as the powder was commingled to the stained brim with the crystal clear liquid, for the boy had brought white wine.