Tom, as always, looked vaguely puzzled. He walked through most of life with that expression, though, so it didn't look too out of place on his face. "I didn't know it made a difference," he told him. His accent was thick, an odd mixture of Welsh and Derby, where he was from and where his dad was from. "Would've looked at the labels."
He held out the bottle to him and then reached in his pocket for the salt.
"And I know you said you're staying out of the fighting but I brought you a stake just in case," Tom said, gesturing slightly. "Don't wanna be caught without one if you really need one."
He moved to sit beside him, once he'd mostly unencumbered himself, setting his own stake down on the step beside himself.