When the man actually spoke to her, using more than a simple sentence, Rhys was shocked. He said that they needed to cross the river, but he didn’t want to force her to cross when she wasn’t comfortable. Rhys looked at the water’s speed, and though it wasn’t like the lake they had fallen into outside of town, it didn’t look like too brisk of a current. She opened her mouth to respond when he sighed and spoke again, admitting that he was being a jerk.

At least now he told her why he was being a jerk. She began to secure her bag as she thought about her own response, knowing that she had to handle this carefully, since he was a temperamental individual. “I understand that you want to keep me out of whatever it is that makes the guard search for you...and I won't press for information. But if they decide that I am involved, and that I do know things, it won’t matter that it isn’t true.” It did not matter if she knew nothing about the stranger, because the guard would never believe that he had never told her a name, or indicated where he was going. If they found her, she was in trouble no matter how much she knew. In some ways, she agreed that it was better not to know, because then she couldn’t give them honest answers when they tortured her for information. But then again… she might see where he was going even if he didn’t tell her, one of these nights. 

Changing the subject a bit, Rhys walked up to the river beside him. “Do you think there is a chance of not soaking my clothing through?” She asked, hoping that the superficial question would help break any of the tension from their very brief earlier conversation. The river was deeper than she thought, even near the shore, though, and she really didn’t have a chance. With a resigned sigh, Rhys decided it would be better to cross now. She took her leather satchel and handed it to the stranger. “If you could keep this out of the water as much as you can…There are things in there I would like to not get wet.” She admitted, knowing he had seen her book at some point—whether or not he had noticed it was another matter.

When he was ready as well, she lowered herself into the water, picking out a spot on the opposite shore and describing it. If she kept that spot in mind, then at least she could aim for it. Foolishly, though, the spot she picked was directly ahead of them, rather than acknowledging that she was going to end up moving with the current quite a bit as she tried to make her way across.