Despite his state, Volen seemed able to make it along with him well enough. Or, well, he seemed to carry on in the direction while the half-breed moved to and fro. He couldn't quite keep up with all the directions he was going or the paths he was creating for them. If he had been worried about their trail being easy to follow thanks to his sluggish steps, he was eased by the time they finally made it to the creek.<br/><br/>As soon as the flowing water was in earshot, the tired man had picked up the pace. He was ever so eager to both be clean and and to quench his thirst. With the food, he had shown a bit of restraint but, with the water, he was instantly falling to his knees on the banks. One hand splashed through the chilly surface without so much as a flinch before he was scooping a handful for himself. It only took two cups before he did away with it and bent down, crouching to drink his fill as his bones groaned in protest.<br/><br/>There would have been room for worry, but he stiffened suddenly. His jaw clenched as Volen finally reigned himself in. It took just about every ounce of will he had left to lean back, and he flopped down hard on his backside. He fixed Wyl with a tired stare as he looked up, sluggish brain only starting to understand what he'd been saying. By the time the surprise went away and the gratitude was incoming, the other man was gone.<br/><br/><br/>When Wyl returned, Volen was slowly dipping his hands into the water and cupping it to bring over his arms and the front of his chest. He felt so (and was so) utterly filthy. How had he let himself get to that point? He didn't truly want to think of that answer, and the relief found in his gaze when Wyl returned was both from seeing the chains had been retrieved and from being saved from his own dark inner workings. He uttered another soft thanks with a bow of his head while he was washing the taste out of his mouth.<br/><br/>Again, Wyl had his attention though, in his defense, he did know how to at least bathe himself. The clothes were just usually laid out beforehand.<br/><br/>An indiscriminate grab plucked one of the shirts away before he began to scoot forwards again, moving closer to the edge of the water. It was cold, but he planned to at least dip his feet in for a few moments. He was seeing to removing the rags wrapped about his lower half when Wyl asked about the scars.<br/><br/>"It's the Maker's prayer. Seventh verse." He sighed as he continued his work with the complex and rather well tied wrappings. He'd tried to ensure they wouldn't fall off over and over again while he was on his hellish trek. "It was...unfortunate timing. That's all. Every few years, I have it renewed. So it doesn't fade." There wasn't a tone of insincerity within a mile around that tone of his. "It's never given me a problem before. 'Cept the first time, of course. And now." He didn't expect someone like Wyl to understand the significance, let alone the content.<br/><br/>"Strength over evil," he began, finally getting the wrappings free of his feet before he was lifting his hips and wiggling out of the wrappings the rest of the way. He was winded by the time he was able to look at them. He frowned a bit before letting them fall in water and then leaned forwards to slowly submerge his feet. The shiver that came was welcomed.<br/><br/>The shirt was fetched before he was wetting it and continuing his rather shabby but much needed bath.<br/><br/>"A reminder that even the wicked and the prideful bow. And the strong. That all things fade. It reminds us that we are small and finite things in this world, but the one who created everything allows us to have strength through him."<br/><br/>He set to sluggishly scrubbing a bit of dirt that was streaked up his leg as he added, "I've...had it since I was seven. I wouldn't feel right without it." Volen could reach his hand to touch the first lines of all the verses on his left, and even if he could only trace over the first few words, it was enough to always help him find comfort in the prayer he had long since remembered. Keeping it carved was only dedication and a show of determination in his faith. A sign that he had overcome. There was a soft, deflated sigh.<br/><br/>"I didn't have time to let it breathe. Something like that...is hardly common, I would think. I couldn't risk it being seen in the open for too long. And the season. It's been wet. Muggy, the rest of the time." That hadn't helped things one bit. Life had been uncomfortable and inconvenient for months now.<br/><br/>He went quiet as he set to washing himself the best he could manage for now. It was a step up, and he'd take what he could get. Once he was semi-clean, he put the new shirt back at the edge of the water to hopefully rinse it out a little before he was moving to pull his new pants and boots to himself.