He blinked and looked up when the water shifted and rippled around her movement, eyes tracking her as she moved over and softly moved his hands. He let her, placing them on the wet tiles beside him instead, and leaned forwards slightly to make it easier for her to reach his braid. A smile tugged at his lips as she retreated, though not in fear, he noted. It was a simple matter to remove the rest of his attire, the long braid down his back falling loose as soon as he pulled the tie from the end. It spread out around his bare back, pooling on the ground a little as he worked on his boots. It was not quite as long as Keithia's, ending just below his hips, and held much less volume.
He was in the process of slipping into the water when she spoke again, his svelte, scarred body bared to the air. A short laugh broke from him as he sunk into the water, mirth filling his eyes at the comment. "I've been called far worse things."
The pool was perfectly warm, washing over his skin and burning the top layer of filth and grime, tugging his head back with the weight of his hair. He positioned himself comfortably against the rim of the pool, one arm resting on the lip he had previously sat on. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug to her question, lower lip pulled between his teeth for a moment. Ah, this one. It never got any easier to explain.
Some of the people he had freed over the years never really bothered to ask
why, they just took their freedom and ran with it. Tyka had not, but Tyka had been the first, the
beginning. She had been complicated. Neither of them really understood it now, even, several years later, going on a decade. He could never explain quite why he did what he did, why he had gathered all these mismatching, oppressed people and given them a choice for an at least semi decent life. He sighed, sinking down in the water so it covered from his chin down, eyes lifting to glance at Keithia.
"It'd be easier to explain if I had some some tragic past, a sob story of being oppressed and abused, etcetera etcetera etcetera." He spread his hands, the motion muted under the water. "But I don't. All I've got is a house full is miscreants and a surprisingly clear conscience."
He shrugged again, tipping his head back to scrub the hot water over his horns, working all sorts of dirt and grime out of the many grooves and notches in them. He wondered how much of it was Rivening Dust, as he liked to call it. People were messier than doors. "I saw you were unhappy and I wanted to help you."
@SanctifiedSavage