Cian cried out as she fell, feeling briefly the touch of the sun on her skin, scorching her, but before she could begin to smoke she was swallowed by the cold water of the river, the chill making even her eyes widen in shock.

Now she was being toyed with.

Her begrimed leather breastplate splashed down next to her. She desperately reached out to grab it, even as the rotting padding she wore gave up in chunks, taken by the current. She paid it no mind, as leathers in hand, she struggled for the surface. 

[i]This would be so much easier without this seal around my neck![/i]

She broke the surface with a gasp as the sun slipped behind the mountains. Someone was yelling hoarsely nearby, unseen. Cian ignored them as she struggled towards shore, going with the current until she reached a calm spot along the bank and could crawl out, still clutching her breastplate in one hand.

It was not a hot bath. There were no perfume soaps, soft warmed towels, oils, combs or brushes. It was, however, clean. 

Cian stripped away the rest of her armor, laying it on the bank to dry before grabbing up a handful of sand as she slipped back in to bathe. 

Tomorrow, there would be sun. She'd have to find a sheltered spot away from it, possibly a hollow in a tree or a cave, more clothes, certainly, and something to feed on.