His thoughts recalled those dark ruminations that had flooded his mind after he had ingested the salve. He wasn’t quite sure he would like the answer to that question if he dug into it deep enough. Still, he could not help but think of it. The taste, it had been smoky like whiskey, but it had also tasted… bright? It reminded him of the smell of freshly cut grass after the rain. It was strange, but the power, the invigorating thrill of it! He had bitten the pony in a fit of vindictive spite, but what he had gained from it had been… exhilarating. He had tasted blood before, his own too, being taught to suck on a cut to prevent infection long enough for it to be plastered. Another time was when his cousin had taken him on a hunting trip and he had partaken of the blood of a stag. Not the nicest thing in the world, but not horrible, and certainly not anything like the blood he had tasted that night.