100 words [1]: “You forgot your medicine.”
My entry [2]:
“You’re not leaving,” Chrys told him, “until you take your medicine.”
Roger made a face. “Tea is not medicine. Sticky, bad-tasting goop is medicine. Aspirin is medicine. Sulfa is medicine. Penicillin is medicine.”
“And none of those will help fighting off this bug. It’s magic.”
“Penicillin’s pretty good against lycanthropy,” he said, sullenly. “There was this time in Austria –”
“But not against this.” She clucked her tongue, then sighed. “I guarantee this will help. My family has been blending this tea for two thousand years. Just ask Uncle Ho.”
“Your Uncle Ho is two thousand years old.”
“See? It works.”