[ Astarion wishes he could complain about having to travel through the forest, but it is his fault that they have to at all; if not for his vampirism, they'd already be across the river by now, someplace safe. He feels a little tremor of fear shake through him, questioning what will become of him if they don't find 'someplace suitable' in time, but he stuffs the thought down. ]

All right.

[ There's a million other things he could say, but it isn't the time. Apologies and questions will have to come later, when he's certain that death won't come for him today. He tugs Iorveth along by the hand as he follows the river as instructed, keeping a healthy distance from the water that runs beside them. ]

We'd better make haste, then. I don't fancy finding out how long it takes for the sun to burn me to ash.