Elandris raised an eyebrow and cast a dubious glance at the river's dark waters, swirling silently past as if mocking the travelers' predicament by demonstrating the ease with which it moved through the riverbed, impeded by none and respected by all as a terrible force of nature, unstoppable and unpredictable. The water was the lord of all that crawled upon the earth, designating where they could or could not go.<br/>He did not trust it. There were many fanciful tales about the forest and its secrets, and more than a few about the river that twisted through it, and Elandris had heard and seen enough to know that all wild tales are based upon at least a grain of truth. He was no alchemist, and this being true did not wish to set foot in the dark water unless he knew exactly what was in it. Unfortunately, it seemed as if there was no other way to cross it. Unless...<br/>Elandris removed his pipe from his mouth, a thin stream of almost-invisible smoke draining from his mouth as he tilted his head slowly upwards and back, craning his neck slightly as he stared at the sky. Or, more importantly, the treetops that speckled it like the spots on an egg. The Warden's eyes involuntarily narrowed as they shot from left to right and back to left again.<br/>Maybe.<br/>Scrambling to his feet and jamming the pipe back into his mouth, Elandris strode to the packhorse and rummaged through its saddlebags until he found what he was looking for: the thin, strong rope. Uncoiling it and stretching it across the ground, the Warden's eyes flicked from its length to the width of the river.<br/>"I need twenty feet of surplus," he murmured to Karrlandren, moving back to the fire and pouring the last of the tea into his small cup. "Do you know exactly how long that cord is?"