[He appears in a little ripple of displaced air. The wound he made on his arm is already healed, but there's a little smear of fresh blood still on the skin. It smells like blood, metallic and salty, but also different, lighter, stranger, lovelier, like the smell of a clementine compared to a grapefruit. Metallic, but glimmering metals from unknown caverns; salt, but the salt of unknown seas of thought and will and dream. But unmistakably, blood, exactly the same shade of red.

Kahl hands him a little bottle - a blue glass one ounce dropper, like they have in the infirmary, which obscures the color somewhat. Small, but full - five or six hundred drops, in that one ounce.]

One drop usually lasts a few hours. People are usually...kind of out of it. If there's any magic effects, they fade at the same time as the intoxication.