Clash in the veil

Uruk remained still, his massive frame almost disappearing in the pool as the warm water soothed his tired muscles. He kept his eyes on Scylla as she worked, noting the practiced ease with which she cleaned his wounds. The feel of the damp rag against his cuts was a mix of discomfort and relief, but he made no complaint, simply grunted occasionally as she dabbed at particularly sensitive spots.

He had expected to feel more irritation at needing help, but the wolf's calm and efficient manner put him at ease. Her size made the task almost comical, yet she handled it with a seriousness that Uruk couldn't help but respect. As she worked, he found himself relaxing further into the pool, the tension from the fight easing away.

"Why are you helping me, wolf?" he asked, finally breaking his silence. "What's stopping you from slicing my throat and taking me home to your pack as a feast?"

"Speech"