Stilling for a moment at the sound of his hiss, she waited and then decided that it must only be his breath as he rested.  Once the clothing was found, she selected a long shirt and tossed it over an arm before her eyes moved to the bathing pool.  At the sight of clean water and cleaning aids, her skin fairly itched with filth, both real and imagined.  Kahlil despised being dirty, and she nearly wept with relief that even that small thing had been thought of.<br/><br/>With a wrinkled nose at the unusual taste, Kahlil did chew on some of the waybread, standing and heading for the pool with the shirt in tow.  The water was clear and cool, and she slid quickly in to immerse herself and get the grime from her skin.  Soapstone was grabbed and her pale skin was scrubbed until it reddened, then she turned attention to her hair, washing through the voluminous strands with care, getting every single tangle undone with patience and little pain.  The bath took her a long time, and when she finished, stepping out of the water, her body glistened and her hair shone.  Quick, nimble fingers worked at turning those wet locks into something more tamed and less likely to get tangled.  Before too long, the white-blonde hair had been woven into a thick plait that hung down past her buttocks, still dripping water from the end.<br/><br/>With careful strokes, she used her hands to slough off the water that clung to her skin before pulling the shirt over her head, looking down at the hem of it that fell to mid-thigh.  In places, the silk still clung to damp skin, and rather than obscure her beauty, the simple oversized shirt seemed to emphasize it, giving hints to the delectable treasures that lay beneath, teasing the senses and creating an alluring image.