Hilda scooped a cup of liquid from her cauldron and turned towards Ari. He wrinkled his nose as she carried the awful smelling brew towards him.
He took the cup and, under her watchful glare, swallowed the bitter tea. He scowled at her.
"Don't you give me that face, Ari," she scolded. "If you weren't so reckless, you wouldn't have to drink my brews."
Ari touched the newly stitched wound on his arm, the result of an aggressive sword practice. The tea was supposed to prevent infections and reduce swelling. He suspected that Hilda made it taste foul on purpose.