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ʜᴀɴsᴇʟ (burnthemall) wrote in makebelievelog,

Considering the water they were used to was tepid and usually somewhat less clean, he didn't doubt it. Apparently there were upsides to this place after all. Hansel still groaned as he pulled himself to a sitting position, taking small sips from the bottle at first before a few cautious gulps followed.

"My head still feels like it did that time we met that brick of a witch that decided to try and remodel her lair with my face." Which had resulted in Hansel vomiting for nearly a full day afterwards and not managing to remember his name for two days.

"How do you make this stop?" He had to put the bottle down, leaning back against the edge of her bed and her legs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "You trying to poison me?" So maybe he got a little melodramatic when he was suffering the effects of the night before.