Mudminnow River swing

A parched throat drove Artax to a riverbank today, although he had not expected to be greeted by company when he arrived. Jorma paused when he spotted the company, startled at first as he tried to cobble together a greeting. Uh, sorry. Mind if I grab a drink, too? he asked with a sheepish grin. Surely this young whippersnapper wouldn't be too bothered by an old man trying to wet his whistle. And if he was... well, Artax would... he would something!