Over the last few days, Marian's muscles had turned from 'completely uncooperative screaming pain vessels' into 'very sore muscles but at least she could move them'. It was a vast improvement, but standing for any length of time and getting up and down was still feeling like a trial.
When the Sheriff offered to bathe her, it felt grimly predictable. For a moment she watched him, eyeing him up, but eventually she sighed and nodded. "Alright," she told him, because maybe a shower would make her feel better. "Do you have a seat we can put in the shower?" The idea of soaking in a bath sounded so much better, but she knew that wasn't good for wounds. And she wasn't sure how they would take the heat of a bath anyway.