They’re excited.
“Can’t I be excited?”
He shakes his head once, then gesturing toward his bloody face, writes:
I really do need to wash this off.
With an aggravated sigh, I take the pen from him.
Is any of that your blood?
He shakes his head.
The wyvern’s
Right. That makes sense.
I take the pen again and this time it takes me slightly longer than usual to write out what I want to say.
Could you show me where you’re going to bathe? I’ve been using magic to keep myself presentable (I know, I know, I shouldn’t. You don’t need to say it) but I’m not used to going this long without a bath. I’m disgusting. I might actually die. I think I feel things crawling on me.
Fox’s eyes scan rapidly back and forth over what I’ve written, and his brow grows lower with each line he reads. He slowly reaches for the pen.
You should come with me.
Yes, that’s what I meant. You can just show me where the bathing facilities are, and then I’ll leave you alone, I swear. No need to worry about me peeking, I can’t even think about anything except the dirt. I actually think I’m dying!!! Do you want that on your conscience??
“Stop,” he growls out loud, sounding frustrated. “I’m not reading all that.”
“Well excuse me, you were the one who said I couldn’t talk.”
He looks like he might implode at any second, which part of me would sort of like to see, but when he speaks again his tone is carefully even. “You should come with me. Now.”
“I thought you were bathing.”
“I am.”
He over-pronounces both words, fixing me with a pointed look.
Finally, I understand what he’s getting at. My cheeks heat, and my stomach does an annoying little flip, somewhere between anxiety and anticipation. I can practically hear the part he’s not saying out loud:“You should come with me, because if we were really bonded we wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity to bathe together and it will look suspicious if you wait in the tent instead of pretending to let me fuck you in the bath.”
“Alright,” I say in a slightly strangled voice.
Fox nods once, his expression unreadable as he ducks into the tent, reemerging seconds later carrying the soap and towels from the previous tent occupant’s trunk.
We walk in stiff silence down the row of tents and out of the camp in the same direction I walked to go look for herbs. I’m surprised when we pass right by the patch of snow I melted, and Fox keeps leading us deeper into the trees.
“You can speak normally now,” he says when we’ve walked for several minutes.
“Why would you put the bathing facilities so far outside the camp?”
“That’s just where they are.”
I glance at the snow-covered ground around us and grimace. “Please tell me you’re not leading me to some frozen pond where I’ll have to break through the ice.”
From the side, I see the corner of his mouth tip up. “No. There are hot springs all over Thermia.”
“Oh!” My mood instantly lightens. Despite the awkwardness hanging between us, the prospect of actual hot water makes my skin tingle with anticipation. “That sounds good, but isn’t anyone else using them?”
