"Harrumph! Just like a man tae leave a lass wantin fer more. Well I'll show Gobby a thing or two about women!" Old Biddy sets aside her knitting needles for the first time in centuries and hobbles about their wee Irish cottage in search of her secret stash of the "guid stuff." Unfortunately her aging memory fails her. Cupboards, drawers, closets fly open, but nary a drop can she find. "Oh bollox! That'll taech me tae hide me Spring tonic in a safe place," she mumbles and stops by the peat fire to warm her tired bones. "But if I didna, t'would be all but gone with Gawbee snaekin about the place, drinkin up every last dram he can get his wrinkly auld hands on." Having all but given up, Brighid flounces petulantly into her comfy chair and manages to stub her big toe on her knitting basket. "OUCH! For the love of Lugh that HURT!" As she bends down to rub her toe, she knocks the basket over and a tangle of wool comes tumbling out, along with a shiny silver flask. "Gods praeserve us! So that's where ye've been hidin. Ye're a sneaky one, tae be sure," she chuckles as she bends down and snaps up the precious object as though it were about to vanish into the unknown realm of missing socks. Then she quickly unscrews the cap and takes a deep draught of the delicious nectar within. "Ahhh! Now, that's somethin I'll ne'er forget - the sweet taste of Gawbee's Beer of Immortality. That man may know nothin whate'er about us women, but he surely knows how tae brew beer. Well, I'll grant the lad knows sommat about us. What woman in her right mind wouldna wish tae stay young, healthy AND immortal? Just think! No need tae spend hours at the beauty parlour under them hot dryers and the smell o' dye stingin yer eyes and makin ye wail like a banshee. I'll laeve that action tae them city slickers. T'is nae place fer an Irish country lass like meself who was surely raised by me dear auld druid Da in the green hills among the cows and the corn." On that happy note, Brighid stops muttering to herself long enough to peer into her hand mirror and witness the wrinkles around her eyes slowly fading from sight. Still feeling a tad tuckered from running about the place like a wild woman, she tucks the flask into her pocket and falls into a dreamless sleep.