[ They're soaked, fresh out of a downpour, and on a wet beach; Ashraf is having trouble wanting to drink any water. But there's sense in it, he has to admit. He pulls two more bottles, his last two, and eyes them with a little downturn of his lips. ]
I... suppose you could drink holy water. I can't imagine the Bishop would want to hear about it, though.
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I... suppose you could drink holy water. I can't imagine the Bishop would want to hear about it, though.