Tristan took great care as he dressed, hissing as each movement was agonizing. He looked into the mirror before him, finding his chest and shoulder tightly wrapped in gauze bandages.
Florin helped adjust the loose fitting shirt over his friend’s shoulders, as Gavin gave his Master a clear glass of deep red liquid, which Tristan consumed eagerly, the taste of iron growing bitter as it slid down his throat, making him cringe.
"What's the matter," Gavin asked, taking the glass.
"The iron seems a bit high in that batch," Tristan whispered harshly.
He smiled, "Demetri said it will taste strange for a little while. It's due to the poison still in your system."
Tristan frowned, "Alona said it was dead blood and vervain."
"Yes, we thought so when Demetri dug the bullet from your back," Florin said as he helped his Master button the shirt.
"He also said you were lucky to have made the call when you did because otherwise you wouldn't have made it through the first night." Gavin s