“Look.” She slightly ahead of him on the road, and she was pointing down the hill at a small lake.
“What? What am I looking at?”
“Don’t you want to wash?”
He looked down at his clothes and found them covered in stains, dried blood and worse. And then there was his own body odor. He had gotten so used to it, he didn’t even notice anymore.
“I guess. You go first, I’ll stand watch.”
“Are you going to peek?” she asked, sounding like she was half-joking.
“Of course.” he grinned.
“Good.” She said, more seriously. “Means you’re still alive.”
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