After the last traces of blood and limestone dust had been washed from Sol's skin, a quiet understanding passed between the two women.
Without any hesitation or shame, Kira reached for the ties of her tunic.
The soft fabric loosened and slipped from her shoulders, revealing the smooth, beautiful curves of her body beneath the silver moonlight.
She stepped out of her remaining clothes with calm, natural grace and waded a little deeper into the stream.
Water lapped gently around her hips as she cupped her hands and began washing the residual grime of battle from her skin, the moonlight tracing every elegant line of her form… the soft swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her waist, the long, graceful length of her legs.
Zeyra followed a moment later. She pulled her own garments over her head without a hint of self-consciousness and discarded them on the mossy bank.
