Mr. Coldwater. That made Quentin grin. He didn't hear much "Mr. Coldwater" anymore, not since his dad died. He was Professor Coldwater for a while, but that only lasted until he'd left the Brakebills faculty. He liked this kid. There were some interesting beliefs, but those could most of the time be overlooked.
"I already have." Quentin said, pulling a mason jar out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He tossed it gently to the boy once he was close enough for the other to catch it. It was a large mason jar, but not very heavy. The liquid inside was a milky red color, and shimmered. The jar was warm to the touch, but not hot.