"I can't catch one." Aldanith muttered, shakily standing up, and taking the bucket from Grace's hands. He pointed at himself. "Elf. We're immune to that." And closing his eyes again, he bent his head back, and poured the water onto his tall, lean figure. The cold water drenched his hair and clothes, sticking it to his body and dripping down, and he didn't stop until the whole bucket was empty, drinking some of the water in the process, too.
The bucket landed on the ground with a hollow thud, and Aldanith shook the water off, delving into his hair and slicking its long wisps back. Even despite such a poor state, he retained his grace, and when he glanced at Grace with his cold, hard eyes, he didn't look so pitiful anymore.