Charlotte jumped slightly. Apparently, she'd been paying too much attention to the corpse and not enough attention to the world around her, something that was probably an issue, given her particular vulnerabilities. She turned to Rhiannon with a blink, offering a nonchalant  shrug.

"It appears I didn't measure the herbs well enough," she meowed casually, as if she hadn't just admitted that she'd murdered the cat in front of them. "I knew I had made an error when he started to foam, and this," she gestured to his fallen body, "didn't take too long after the foaming started. It's the third one this week; I ought to be more careful," the half-blind she-cat finished with a bit of a chuckle. "If you're interested in specifics, I'm more than willing to give them to you, but either way, I could use help moving the body."

"Oh, as lifeless as a pile of rocks," she meowed, nudging the corpse's side. If Charlotte had been anywhere but Primal Instinct, she might have been concerned about her lack of manners around the dead (might being the operative phrase). Most of the cats around here had as little value for life as she did, though. Perhaps that was the reason she was drawn back to this place, after all.

She glanced to the pile of herbs that sat at her side. "Patient was having high levels of hallucinations, as reported over the three week period in which we spoke together." If her tone had been casual before, it was completely ambivalent now; science had no room for emotions. "Over our first few sessions, I tried a variety of different combinations. Today, I gave him a combination of lavender and... I believe my vendor said it was called ashwagandha? It's supposed to help with advanced stages of psychosis, but as you can see, it didn't quite work out."

The psuedo-shaman shrugged. "It's an experimental medicine that I had to travel quite a distance to procure." It was a three days' journey, which made the end result even more unfortunate. So much time had been put in, and for what, this ? She glanced back down at the body with a sigh.

"Patient heard voices that he couldn't account for, voices that fed his already deviant impulses. Upon our last meeting, he reported that his voices were beginning to take shape as visual hallucinations as well. Patient was concerned because of a familial history of psychosis, and was desperate for a way to fix it." How ironic, that the two cats came for the same reason, a desire for a cure, yet he was the one who ended up dead. Perhaps that was just how things went with Charlotte; to be near her was to be in direct danger of the end.

"Any other questions?"

She stared blankly at the other cat for just a minute too long, trying to wrap her head around her statement. "Religion, madness, they're all the same thing," she meowed with after a long pause, her tail tip twitching. "Either way, the patient is enraptured with things that do not exist, whatever their reason." There was almost some.... sympathy in her voice? It was strange to think that the feline could be sympathetic towards anything, but there was small part of her that was soft for those who found solace in religion, those wrapped up in a fantasy that they didn't even realize was a fantasy. It was almost sad to her. Perhaps that was why she could be sympathetic; sympathy always required at least a little pity.

"As a rule, my patients are non-religious," she explained, her whiskers twitching slightly. "Or, at least, they don't tell me they are. I suppose any of my patients could practice, but if they do, they keep it to themselves. It's a pretty self-selecting group; religious cats often don't consider themselves crazy, my patients do." Charlotte shrugged, tilting her head slightly.

"Rarely, I stumble upon a patient and recruit them myself. I don't have much time to do that these days, though," she meowed with a slight huff to her voice. Maintaining Primal Instinct's health was a much larger task than she had anticipated. "Most of the felines I see have either approached me directly or have been referred to me by a friend." Her tail twitched. "We speak about symptoms, have several talk sessions so I can familiarize myself with their exact circumstances, and then we begin a .... more or less voluntary experimentation period."

Her tail twitched; she hadn't been expecting to defend her scientific method, but she did appreciate the interest in her work. It had been too long since she had been able to be central with her work; Primal Instinct had become more of a distraction than she had intended, it was... nice to talk about it.

"If we have gone through several therapy sessions," she meowed with a blink, "I would be able to determine more or less why I believed you were having them. It all really depends precisely on circumstance. Some felines' delusions can be fixed simply by talking them through, and although rather boring, such cases suggest that not all intervention need be medical. If I determined that medicine was the only way to cure your delusion, I would start first with standard medicinal processes. I try a mix of herbs like lavender first, and sometimes it works. If it didn't, we would continue to look at other forms of medicine until we found something that works. For most, it's a process of trial and error, and most don't end up like the patient today. It's when I have to ... think outside the box that casualties are more probable."