[Roxas lets her take her time; when she needs to stop and take air, or if she needs more time to lean against a branch or trunk, he holds his breath and ignores the salt and metal smell of blood seeping in. His hunger wouldn't get the best of him. He just needed to get her to that body of water as soon as possible. But would she make it there? She seemed exhausted already, despite the stream not being too far of a walk. At least from what feather-light-boned, agile Roxas seemed to remember. (Meanwhile, he's learned to tune out the faraway giggles, though when he does notice them, they are still as bone-chilling as he remembers.)
The freshwater stream he finds is just wide enough to fit someone a little more than her size, just shallow enough to cover her if she lies horizonally. (But does she want to touch the murky, mossy bottom of the stream, teeming with tadpoles and other smaller fish?) He points to it and looks down to her.]
The water's over here! This should even take us to the lake if we follow it the right way.
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The freshwater stream he finds is just wide enough to fit someone a little more than her size, just shallow enough to cover her if she lies horizonally. (But does she want to touch the murky, mossy bottom of the stream, teeming with tadpoles and other smaller fish?) He points to it and looks down to her.]
The water's over here! This should even take us to the lake if we follow it the right way.