"Oh my dear, you have grown quite good at brewing tea."
I smiled as I set the porcelain cup of tea in front of Don Claro. His eyes glistened as he reached over and sipped at the tea gingerly. Almost as if he was enjoying every sip.
I looked up at the large clock in the corner of Don Claro's bedroom. It was 2:15 in the afternoon. It has been over two weeks since I came to this abode. During the first three days I spent my nights in hell as my body tried to recover from my wounds. And every night Don Claro would sit in the chair by my bed. He would whisper encouraging words softly in my ear as I convulsed in pain. After finding out that I was able to walk in the fourth day, I first went to the kitchen. There I found multiple spices allowing me to form my own type of medication to speed my healing process.
