Vincent feels bad that the work he has to offer isn't really what Irahl would like to be doing... But he has another thought that makes him feel a little better.

"Hey, my brother's gonna put you through the wringer whenever you're at the Capitol. Maybe by the time you're back you'll be happy to be takin' lazy potshots at some monsters."

At the back of the group, the grubby guy taking apart the binoculars (one chamber is now in three pieces, and he's currently holding up the triangular prism in the clean side of a scrap of cloth he's also procured from somewhere in his pockets) speaks up with his scratchy voice.

"Arcana? Means what?"