Michel let Zevran settle in with his potion and water before moving again toward the basin filled with water that was now luke warm. Soaking the cloth and wringing it out, he returned to Zevran, mopping his skin with it. This was not the same as a bath, but it was better than letting the sweat sit on his skin. It should make him comfortable, Michel wanted him to be comfortable at least, wiping him down in silence. That Zevran was allowing the Chevalier to take care of seemed to improve his spirits considerably, his eyes softer, his expression gentle for a warrior.