"Merlin, that shit is gross," Ambrose said, wincing. Not many of the potions tasted particularly good, but he thought it was fitting that a hate potion was as disguising as this was.
He glanced over at Ridgebit and saw her watching him and he crossed his arms, glaring at her. "What are you staring at?" he asked harshly, suddenly very aware of her flinches and wrinkled brows. He smirked a bit, interpreting it as fear, and straightened up a bit, doing his best to loom over her and try to take advantage of that, to gain the upper hand. That must be the worst thing about her - that she was scared of everything.