Blood. Yes, that made sense, Sasuke subsiding enough to glance down at his hands. The water had washed away the worst of what was on his skin, only thicker dried spots left that he smeared off with a thumb that shook -- only from the cold. Only from the cold.

He crouched when they reached the shore, scooping up a handful of icy water to scrub down his face as well, the hot spray of arterial -- sense-memory, not as crisp as Sharingan-memory, and perhaps once the skin was shed it would go with it (it didn't work that way).