After filling his stomach with crumbly bread, watery soup, salted meat, and thin, mushy cookies made from grain flour, Enkrid followed through on what he'd resolved.
“Pwah! I’m gonna die!”
Dunbakel resisted, but it was useless. Enkrid shoved her head into the bath. Her head burst out of the tub with water spraying in every direction.
“Come on, I washed ten days ago!”
She protested.
If dabbing water on your face counted as washing, well—technically, she wasn’t wrong.
“I could toss Rem into the same bath.”
