'I should go see if I can take a bath or something of the sort. I saw a well earlier. They should have access to fresh water even if it's cold.'
Sylas preferred cold showers anyway. He wouldn't mind it not being heated.
He slipped off of his cot, feeling some of the aches and bruises on his body. But it was already better than it had been yesterday. It seemed that his Constitution was doing wonders. The nails on his right hand were already half grown back.
Walking out of the large tent, he rounded it, heading toward where he had seen the well. But when he got to the back of the large tent, he heard a splash of water.
He looked to the side.
There, down in a deep squat, a woman with her back to him threw some water over her shoulder with a cup and almost furiously wiped herself with a rough cloth.