Another man might blink once or twice, clearing the fog of his thoughts; Vervain just seems to come out of them abruptly. "Oh, I'd never," he says to Tuo, mustering up a braver smile. "When he hasn't even started it? I'm good for one wormy acorn, tops."

As if by way of emphasis he stuffs the acorn he'd been listening to, and another for good measure, in his pocket. Then he's hurriedly parceling out the rest of the bag...though now and again he hesitates where he hadn't before, shaking this acorn or frowning at that one. But with only a minute's work left to him, he's finished with his task in short order and returning the scant handful of good acorns to the bag.

The better to be on his way in a hurry so he can get busy preparing for morning services (and turning out the chapel's overnight residents for fresh air and pew space), and.....forget whatever in the Night's name just happened there. (Like he'll stop thinking about it.)

"That's all of them, with plenty left over for Alvi."