Not the exercise you thought it was

The Warlord sat beside the tub for a moment as the girl collapsed into it, just about turning to jelly at the warmth. Displaced dirt and blood rose to the surface, clouding the water. There had been even more muck hidden in that sandy coat then he had realised. He grabbed some brushes and cloths and set to work. Being the Warlord he was, he didn’t bother to stop and ask if this was appropriate or if she would want his help.

Instead, he helped himself to whatever he wanted, and in this case, that was a clean wolf. He started to scrub what he would reach of her with the way she was seated, starting with her shoulders. Scrubbing with firm but gentle motions as he avoided her wounds, and scrubbed out the dirt.

"Speech"