"What you call a "battle" seems to me to be a great hunt, but without purpose except to acquire more metal or to make the defeated clan believe the victor's stories to be their own," Eshalu said and accepted the strange lump of lye and ash Aeryn handed her. She used to washing with the balsamic lather of crushed seeds of the<em>huiyilen</em>shrub, the scent woodier and less floral than the slippery grey form she now held in her hands.<br/><br/>Eshalu brought Aeryn's foot to rest between her breasts. The contact of skin on skin in the cooler air outside the water was pleasing. No, not just pleasing,<em>delectable</em>. A spark of tightness tugged in her belly. A passing pang of desire. She felt her nipples pebble in the air - big, and fat standing like stiff, dark pink buds. Water sloshed on her skin, the clear liquid now cloudy with lye.<br/><br/>She scrubbed Aeryn's legs in long, functional strokes, her touch bearing the firm strength of a seasoned warrior. At least at first. Then it subsided into a more lingering, exploratory touch. It was like she was trying to explore the form and contours of Aeryn's body - a new land she had only seen from afar and was only now beginning to discover. Her eyes remained fixed on Aeryn's while she worked a lather on the human woman's legs and then rinsed it off with energetic splashes of water.<br/><br/>"The crystal you wear on your eyes," Eshalu said, suppressing a smirk, "the vapour has moistened it. Can you still see?" She paused and raised Aeryn's foot from her breast, taking a moment to press a wet kiss on the sole, just on the teasing side of tickling. Aeryn's spectacles had been a source of burning curiosity, perhaps because it spoke to a fear in Eshalu's heart. She relied on her keen senses: her eyesight, sharp even at night, her sense of smell and hearing, to navigate her world. Depending on an artifact to see was terrifying and intriguing at the same time.<br/><br/>"Because if you can, there is nothing I would like more than for you to wash my back."