So... You Live Here?

Maker’s breath, this all hurt.  He’d been through some rough times before, but this was different! It was like his entire body was one giant bruise with smaller bruises on top of it that were his arms and legs, his head, and they hurt too!  Alastair turned his head away from the light seeping in from around the window shade… he could try going back to sleep, but he didn’t want to.  The dreams… well, let’s just say that they weren’t pleasant and of the tainted kind.  He finally pushed himself up, shuffling about as he got his legs out in front of him.  Sitting up… well, that hurt too.

Absently, his hand went up and rubbed at his neck, his throat.  A calloused line that was softening with time.  Eventually, it’d disappear, but he swore he still remembered the feel of that heavy collar there.

Fingers curled in and his hands clenched before he could stop himself.  He shook himself, then forced himself up and over to the wash basin.  He dipped his hands into the water and rubbed them together, scraping beneath his nails and even going so far as to do the same around his cuticles.  Then, he washed his face, making sure that the clean rag next to the basin scrubbed behind his ears and neck too.  He’d have to go to the river to bathe, but that wasn’t a problem.

Patting himself dry, he turned at the sound of someone… oh.  The very tops of his ears went pink.  Daciana, he actually managed not to stammer out, I was just getting ready for a bath.  Is there something I can help you with before that?  He didn’t sound too hopeful, did he?  No, he didn’t.  But it was only polite to ask, since she’d saved his life and all.  Just that.  No other reason.