Krem smiled, considerately, and nodded a little bit by way of thanks, for the offer of a spare shirt and for Dorian offering up his services. Really, Krem was pretty sure he was alright--bumped, bruised, and occasionally bleeding if he turned too fast or too far--but he appreciated the gesture of getting cleaned up.

He scooted into the bedroom, picking out one of the shirts from the bottom drawer, though he didn't put it on just yet. For now, he sat on the edge of the bed and just stretched out all the aches and pains. It would be better once he was more cleaned up.

"Chief," he called, but sort of whiningly. "Get a rag?"