Lion Head Mesa con[m]igo

the little man did his part to make the removal an easier affair, bending his head and taking tiny steps backwards as the fellahin girl did the same, the crimson garment peeling off his body like a second skin.

he decided that this must be how snakes felt when shedding, or fully grown chicks when breaking free of their eggshell. 

an audible sight came out of him when he was freed from his woolen confines. there was a pause, then he shook himself, feeling the previously pressed fur shake into shape (and a lone centipede tumble out of it).

it was at first surprising, then wholly logical, when that made him feel much, much better. 

"aaah." the neb stretched, his back and each leg. in his brief bliss he was nearly capable of forgetting the stale stench that must've been unleashed. nearly.

he fixed his posture and gave a shy nod to the girl, aware that he was being a tough guest to care for. "mah apologies, miss. ahm not uhm, usually in this state." he chuckled, in that awkward way of a person trying scrounge up a modicum of humour. "now ah think submerging' mahself would have some effect."