[In truth, he can bathe himself as well as he could on any other day, just with movements more carefully measured. Yet her question he considers all the same as he sets to peeling his bloodied tunic from his body. In the silence that has thickened between them he misses her already, and he craves the gentle touch that has become so familiar to him, that has left its impression upon his heart as the prows of ships mark lines in the sea-sodden sand when they are dragged ashore. He longs to see some sign of the support that she has steadily given him through all trials but for this present matter that between them tangles like threads upon a loom not carefully tended to.
Thus, as he loosens the belt which gathers the torn fabric around his waist, he at last lifts his eyes to her. In his voice glows some faint ember of the warmth that she has known in happier days.]
I shall count myself grateful for your assistance, dear Olivia.
[Stripped now of his soiled clothing, he pushes himself up from the stool upon which he perches. His skin, which glows with the radiance of the sun when clean, is now streaked in the dull orange dust of the desert, and his side is caked in blood. This remains the only evidence for the seam that Koltira had split open with his blade, for thanks to Olivia's healing hands no scar mars the flesh. Yet the shocking color and the sheer amount of skin it stains serve as a grim reminder.]
no subject
Thus, as he loosens the belt which gathers the torn fabric around his waist, he at last lifts his eyes to her. In his voice glows some faint ember of the warmth that she has known in happier days.]
I shall count myself grateful for your assistance, dear Olivia.
[Stripped now of his soiled clothing, he pushes himself up from the stool upon which he perches. His skin, which glows with the radiance of the sun when clean, is now streaked in the dull orange dust of the desert, and his side is caked in blood. This remains the only evidence for the seam that Koltira had split open with his blade, for thanks to Olivia's healing hands no scar mars the flesh. Yet the shocking color and the sheer amount of skin it stains serve as a grim reminder.]