Gorman's offer to help was met with a small chuckle, Kaite being unsure if the orc had ever seen her face enough to know that she wasn't one to paint her face red and black. The uncertainty stemmed from a dark wondering where her perception of reality began and ended, since she never really thought about the armor ever being there. It was practically her skin, and she felt naked without it.
[color=a187be]"Ya'captain sounds like quite th'lady"[/color] she commented, reaching out for the rag before her arm fell heavily into the earth to leave a knuckle-shaped dent in the soil. [color=a187be]"Nnnf...fer fuck sake..."[/color] she hissed with a wince from the pull of soft black scars across her arms. [color=a187be]"Somethin' like 'at...[/color]" Kaite hesitantly began, understandably reluctant to have Gorman poking around under her clothes to clean off the space around the myriad of wounds. Without a word, she lifted her hand to take the rag and wipe her face off. Forgetting water, it mostly smeared, though did its job well enough to expose the trail of darkness along her hairline.

[color=a187be]"I got a lot a'these, Gorman..."[/color] Kaite groaned, aware of what he probably saw. Lifting the wobbly arm back up, her nearly unfocused eyes peered more through his face than commit to the attempt to seem intimidating as she demanded, [color=a187be]"...water...if you would"[/color] and offered the rag back to him.
While she was proud to the point of insisting on cleaning herself, the way the world pitched with every motion and how her arm felt like dead weight, she was more likely to make a mess than accomplish much. [color=a187be]"Jus need ma'face en arms...I can get th'rest"[/color]