Despite Kaz's instructions to find his way to the Slat, eat something and then return to the tannery, Wylan has done nothing of the sort. He finds that after missions-- even after the swell of adrenaline has died away-- his stomach refuses to cooperate with him. It's an unfortunate thing he learned shortly after his assassination attempt, after muscled hands curled around his throat and attempted to throttle the life from him for the simple crime of not being enough. Since, he's not been able to stomach hot meals for at least half a day after an incident.

All the better for their troupe, he supposes as he gets back to work. He can't imagine what all they could do with increased access to ingredients, but sticky bombs would be a tremendous inclusion to Kaz's armory. He could tag a target, allow them to walk into a room full of targets, and then let the bomb go off. It would allow for Kaz to work in areas where Inej couldn't reach, reduce the need for her to work in increasingly dangerous situations.

He only needs to get the equations right, then they would determine the ingredients. The sticky parts need to be flexible like a plastic, maybe dioctyl sebactate? Or its precursor? Or dioctyl adapate as the plasticizer? He shuts his eyes and listens for a moment. If he can remember this, he can make one of the deadliest explosives known to any of the gangs in the Barrel and prove himself indisposable to the Crows.

He hopes.

Just as he catches the name of the chemical, he hears the door open and the tell-tale clack of Kaz's shoes on the stairs down to his work area.

"You're alive," Wylan can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, not looking over to the bag of kruge yet.