"There's nothing...there's nothing violent about my hair." It's hard to tell if he's putting it on or if the reaction is genuine. Either way, he's letting it go since he agreed to come with him. "Just tell them I fought valiantly if worse comes to worst."

He walks quietly through the camp. Many are already asleep. Some are still working on their armor the way he had been, others in very quiet conversations near the fires. The mood is very different from earlier in the day. Cullen is just as glad to get away from it for a little while as he is with the prospect of being cleaner.

The steep path down the cliff is easily seen in the bright moonlight. He feels in no danger of a slip or fall. He wends down to the rocky strand of beach and immediately strips out of the rest of his clothing. The air is cool without being cold. It's the water that's colder. "As long as we stay where it's shallow, there shouldn't be an issue. You sure you don't want to wash?" He gingerly wades out into the waves, the tide in ebb fortunately and therefore not as violent as it can be. Squatting down, he bends forward to begin splashing his hair, face, and chest. It's bracing and has him puffing and blowing water from his lips as it runs down. He keeps his eyes shut against the sting.