( Nynaeve keeps her gaze on him, keeps her tone even. One can't project confidence or calm if one looks perturbed, she's known that for years. As a young Wisdom, she's had to embody that from before the time that anyone should need to, but that's the way of things, and for the most part, she's grateful.

In the moment, she simply nods her head once, acknowledging what else he saw. )

There might be something located in that room, or she might be saying nonsense. The ghosts in the bathing rooms haven't been able to touch me, I haven't heard of them harming anyone. She wouldn't have done anything to you, and neither will he.

( He, the mumbling ghost who lifts a hand to swipe at the blood on his brow, his not quite transparent nature making it more a shimmering before he better solidifies in their view, still muttering, looking at his bloodied fingertips. Then he lowers his hand to the tub, as if to wash his hands. )

Do you mind helping me in here, until the water runs clean? You won't need to deal with the one in the tub.