[There's all manner of filth coming away as she washes his face — dirt, blood, sweat, ash. She goes slow, and takes care not to miss a spot, making sure to work all the way up to just slightly past the hairline to try to combat as much of the scummy, grubby feeling as she can.]

It will be light soon. And we have done a great deal of work, to have it go to waste if you are struck by a sunbeam.

[She sighs, considering.]

I don't think I can sneak you back into the camp and hide you there for a whole day. I could cut my robes and try to make you a canopy of some kind, to hide in. But I will be missed if I am not back soon, and tomorrow all day I have to be in town. We've been relying on the money that I and a few others can make.

[And she'll have to replace the supplies she's used on him, she thinks grimly, but doesn't mention it; no sense in making an already wounded person feel like a burden.]