The blood on his shirt didn't make him look any better.

"We saw you coming in from the north and there was blood on your shirt."

A few hours before, she'd come home with blood on her shirt.

I'd like to know about the blood on the shirt, too.

"But why do you have these words on your shirt?"

She just wanted to keep two fingers on his shirt.

I pulled on the shirt, trying to lead him into the room, but he would not be moved this far.

I also ended up with black stuff on my shirt, but it didn't seem to matter.

For the first time I saw the darkness of the blood on his shirt.

Still, I don't think all the blood on my shirt was mine.