When she started pulling her clothing off without warning he turned and left the bathroom. Unnatural his hang ups over nudity might be, but you didn't watch a girl you didn't know take her clothes off, particularly not when she was already sick and vulnerable. He shut the door, and stopped just outside the bathroom when her thoughts echoed in his head again.
It took him a moment to orient that very strange thinking-at that she seemed to be able to pick up. "Hear who?" She had to be talking about her tale, he realized. "No. I've got my own." The Wolf, for his part, was doing the mental equivalent of pacing and being non-responsive, a sort of boycott of the situation, and fuming.
There was a single bathrobe in the room, which he didn't touch, since she'd need it more than he would. He wanted to change out of his wet clothes, but he had nothing else. There was an extra blanket, however, and he took that, wrapping it around himself in an effort to warm up, and going to the window. You could let me out instead of shivering like a wet doe."What does she say?"