"Is dat how I get you to wash my back?" he asked in light voice, lifting himself from the water and life of the swamp. "I could get us a suite in de Quarter, champagne et bourbon, claw foot tub wit' plenty of space..." He grimaced as he sat up, not entirely enjoying the bruises and the squelching. Looking down, he could see his unusual body heat was already drying him. Dry caked swamp, yummy. War may not be all of Remy, but part of that foundation was, and either way, he had unleashed the Horseman on the world. Too many sins to even start to atone.