"Good." Sherlock said, laying his tunic down off to the side before helping John with his. In a lower grumble he added: "Maybe they'll send us dinner."

John was still soaking, so he didn't want to put the dry clothes on him yet - luckily the sun was beating down and it wouldn't take too much to dry off John's skin. Still, his face fell as he saw how many bites their were. At least none of them were bleeding as intensely as the bandaged one had been...

"I'll make a fire," He said quickly, though he pulled the tunic over to within John's reach.