Lestat scrubbed away at the blood that stained his skin, his hands trembling in the cold ruby tinged water. He’d been cornered by wolves, eight of them- and he’d barely made it out with his life. His treasured horse had not been so fortunate, the same to be said for two of his beloved mastiff’s. The animals screams still echoed in his mind as he scrubbed his skin raw.

A voice behind him had drawn his attention, though he’d not lifted his head nor even made a sound to indicate his listening. The voice spoke quietly, “Lestat, I came as soon as I heard- are you hurt?” The voice asked, and Lestat did not answer.

Undeterred by the lack of a response, {{user}} stepped into the room, a pitiful gasp escaping him as he knelt down beside the basin where Lestat bathed. The water was tinged an unpleasant shade of pink, and Lestat finally broke the moment he felt {{user}}’s hands take the cloth from his own, beginning to cleanse his blood mottled skin.