The water on the wash cloth was warm and he pushed it soothingly against the cut on her back, removing both the dried black blood from the chase and the recent wet blood. She felt a little guilty knowing that her black blood was going to ruin his wash cloth.
He was standing very close to her, looking at her skin. His left hand was on her shoulder, while his right caressed her with the cloth. The tender touch and care that he was placing into his task were not wasted on her.
There was an angel washing her clean.
