Instead of his fist, Andrew bit down as hard as he could on the top of the bedroll. His eyes streamed with every shift of the needle through his injured skin, his cries muffled. His hands buried in his hair and clenched hard to stop himself from swatting Joey away and end it too soon, when his work wasn't finished. He felt sick, but kept swallowing the feeling until Joey was finished and moving away from him, and he was able to force himself to carefully sit up. It was hard to do, but necessary, and when he was in a slightly more comfortable position Andrew patted White as she nudged against his shoulder.

He blinked and looked at the bottle of amber liquid offered to him, faltering for a moment with his hand at his hair to pull the scrap of cloth out. "Um... I-I don't..." Pausing, Andrew bit his lip and took it. He'd never drank alcohol before, so he took it slow, tipping the bottle back and keeping his back straight as he did. When the liquid hit his tongue Andrew gasped, and the alcohol burned painfully, sending him into a coughing fit.