Seth's priorities had already shifted away from the equally-as-cold Krea to the maiden being swept down the river, towards them. He gave the Phoenix a reassuring smile- the first she had ever seen, since neither her nor the mage had seen his face- and then pushed off to intercept the waterlogged and flailing damsel in distress. 

He had a quick thought- how ironic it was that the thief and assassin was saving lives from the cold liquid that he absolutely hated getting soaked in, and letting someone else hold his non-essential stuff. [i]They owe me so very, very much.[/i]

He himself had trouble getting a full lungful of non-waterlogged air, but it didn't affect him quite so much as the others- part of the job was doing whatever was needed to get the job done, and sometimes he had been forced to hide just under the surface of the water, with his nose just barely above to keep breathing. Good training for a moment like this, struggling through the fast-flowing water, swimming diagonal instead of directly against it or straight to the side.

He would've breathed a sigh of relief, had he been able to spare it, when he latched onto the struggling, dress-laden lady, whose exact purpose out in the wilderness could be questioned later. And up ahead, not too far, was a bend in the river, where the entire thing stretched out into a great big curve, and hopefully shallowed out. 

A minute of floating and struggling to keep above water with the maiden, he started slowing down, starting to curve and turn, and his feet touched riverbottom. It was loose, and might be a little tricky, but it would have to do. He dragged the fair maiden out of the water, thoroughly unconscious but not looking too worse for the wear. She'd have a couple scars from the cuts on her face, but nothing too bad.

Figuring that her slowly-rising chest meant she was alive, and carefully averting his eyes from leering, he got up, shook himself off, and started trudging back up the bank. He was very much tired and sore from the bashing that he had taken, shivering from the cold and letting the sun's morning heat slowly warm him, but he had a job to do- that robed wizard would probably drown because of all the things he has in his great bag he calls a wardrobe of his. The Phoenix couldn't swim, and he could, and neither could the defenseless one, and his poisons were up there. 

He couldn't even think of a response to how crappy his day had already been, though saving the beauty was a thing of duty. So to speak.