[Anduin appreciates her not pressing the point. Anyone with a pendant would have seen him begging for aid several times over by now, and even if she hadn't, the dark circles under his eyes are hard to miss.

As she begins to slip, he reaches out a hand to take her arm, his gloved grip on her arm gentle but firm. The snow has given way to icy mud, which is -- a promising sign?]

Easy -- are you alright?

[He takes a few tentative steps forward once he's certain she isn't about to fall flat on her face.] This flower -- it's supposed to be at the bottom of a river. Isn't that what the townspeople said?