Quil studied the Drow. It was clear that she was not magically affiliated by the way she carried herself and the way she moved made. He noticed the bow and arrow as well as the knives. Definitely a danger to him. While physically, he can defend himself, (he was after all trained by his father in combat) having the phoenix inhabiting his body made him unstable. He can control a fraction of the fire power inside him but most times it bursted out and caused him damage more than it helped. If he didn't get things under control, he might actually die before he could even do anything or without even setting a foot out of the beach they were in.

"A bargain, perhaps?" Quil rasped out, the words clawing at his dried throat. He coughed several times before he continued. "I need only enough water--" he cleared his throat. "--to wet my throat. I don't have much to offer--" he swallowed and then coughed. "--as I don't have supplies like you do but I can at least dry your clothes and gear." The water around him continued to sizzle, the salt that had formed from the dried up sea water on his armor falling back to the water like powder.