Duck Lake dirty little secret

No, he answers, his voice metallic. I need a bath myself. The first step in the water is markedly more difficult than the second. He gasps despite himself as the coldness of it slips past his legs and to his chest, as it laps at his neck. The world turns dark and blurred as he dunks his head under the water. When he comes back up, the drops pull at his eyelashes and he blinks them away.
Taylor looks terribly skinny and much more boyish with all the hair slicked back. The last remnants of the poultice and dried blood are finally off of him and so is the grime between his toes, stuck in the fold of his neck. Here for business? Or just passing by?
He licks his lips, assumes the proper inquisitive tilt of his head. Water drips out of his ears, runs in rivulets down his shoulders, wondering blearily if he had needed a bath at all, or if it was Evien's emphasis on hygiene that was rubbing off on him.