Crow woke up from his nap sometime in the evening while Alistair and Rikki were cooking dinner. Quite hungry since he had skipped lunch that day—after finding out that Simon was dead, he hadn’t had an appetite to eat— he joined them for a large meal of vegetables and rye bread. After everyone had eaten, Rikki took the leftovers to Hazel, who still hadn’t left the depths of the inner tunnels. According to Alistair, the herbalist wouldn’t touch the food, but Rikki was determined to get her to fill her stomach at some point.

For the rest of the evening, he left the hideout to walk along the edge of the river. His main purpose had been to visit the grave his companions had made for Simon. Since they needed to stay hidden from the knights, they had been forced to bury him far upstream, so their location wouldn’t be given away if any knights happened to see the marker. Fortunately, because it was a late hour, he had no trouble going to the spot and then coming back again after he had paid his respects to the fallen thief.

On his way back to the waterfall, he also stopped to wash off the blood that still stained his skin from Jaxon’s sword. After taking a quick look around to make sure he was still alone, he knelt down at the edge of the river and rolled up his sleeves, using the cold water to cleanse himself of the red streaks that painted his right arm and left hand. It took some time for him to meticulously scrub all of it off. When he was finished, he rocked back on his heels, watching the water flow.

Sitting on the bank alone, he suddenly had a strange urge to climb all the way in. He looked down at his hands. Even though he was clean from the blood, he still felt dirty. He had caused yet another one of his companions to die, and he had agreed to work alongside the murderer that had killed him. It felt vile.

Standing up again, he casted another glance over the area before he reached for the hem of his tunic, stripping the fabric off of his body and tossing it aside. He did the same with his boots and pants and then stepped into the river. The frigid water chilled his skin right away, and he shivered. There was a reason why peasants never bathed at this time of the year, but at that moment, he didn’t care. He just wanted to rid himself of the feeling of filth after everything that had happened.

So, taking a steeling breath, he waded deeper into the river. It was a shallow section that he and the other thieves had used to bathe in the past, and the slow-flowing water only rose to the middle of his thigh. But that was all Crow needed. He washed the rest of his body slowly, taking his time and enduring the iciness of the water as a form of self-inflicted justice for the guilt he felt about Simon’s death. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the effect he had hoped it would.

When he was finished bathing, he climbed out of the river and put his clothes back on, feeling just as terrible as before except that now he was wetter too. Trembling from the cold, he reached up to squeeze some of the water out of his long hair and began the walk back to the camp.

--

By the time Crow returned, the other thieves had already gone to bed. Glancing over at the sleeping area, he saw both Alistair and Rikki laying on their mats. It was as good of a time as any. He made his way quietly over to their medical supplies and dug out a roll of bandages. Sitting down against the wall, he rolled up his right sleeve and dressed the wound. It stung a bit as he worked, but otherwise it didn’t seem like it had gotten worse.

He had just finished inspecting the bandage to make sure it would hold up, when he heard a faint rustling sound from the sleeping area. He looked up sharply and put the leftover bandages back where he had found them, rising to his feet to distance himself from the medical supplies.

“Crow?” Rikki’s half-awake voice broke the silence as she lifted her head.

“It’s me,” he confirmed in a whisper, making his way over to the sleeping area. “I just got back from visiting Simon’s grave.”

“It’s late,” she noted, sitting up on her mat and rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“I know,” he said softly, grateful that the darkness of the cave concealed his damp hair and clothes from the other thief. “I lost track of time.” He met her gaze in the dark. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” she yawned and then smiled at him. “It’s good to have you back, Crow.” Reaching out, she rested one hand on top of his and then pulled back with a frown. “You’re freezing.”

“It’s a cold night,” Crow lied casually. “I’m fine.”

Rikki shook her head, “I’m going to get you an extra blanket.” Without waiting for a reply, she got up from her bed and made her way quietly over to the supplies, retrieved a blanket, and handed it off to him when she came back. “I’m not going to let you catch a fever the first night you’re back,” she said with a smirk.

“Thanks, love,” Crow said gratefully, spreading the second blanket on top of his first.

“No problem, boss,” Rikki’s smirk widened to a grin as she used her old pet name for him. She settled down on her mat once again and pulled her own blanket over herself. “Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night,” he yawned in response, following her lead and laying down on his bed. Despite the troubles he’d learned about and nap he’d had earlier, the warmth of the blankets over his body and the comfort of his companions’ presence at his side left him feeling relaxed content. It didn’t take long before he slipped out of consciousness into a dreamless sleep.