For a long moment, Tanvi looked curiously up at Dauskin, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, moving only to catch the water as it was tossed down. The man wasn't unpleasant company really—there were many she would have liked less as traveling companions—but he had no sense of narrative drama. Granted, that particular accusation probably could have been leveled against almost everyone in the tribe save her, and apparently the old crone. Oh well, there was nothing to do be done about it.<br/><br/>"We are wandering the desert, where little more than scorpions and flies and beetles manage to survive, and wandering more or less in a random direction, traveling for not all that long at all looking for two giants, and we just happen to stumble across a pair of hulking armoured brutes that seem in need of help, each of which probably outmass both of us put together by a considerable margin, and you're complaining that our coincidence has given us giants that aren't<em>big enough</em>?" She laughed, then waved her hand dismissively. "It's not like anyone takes prophecy seriously in that way anyhow. It's all too cryptic and ineffable."<br/><br/>She was walking around the giants again now, trying to determine the best way to rouse them without making herself too objectionable in the process. She knew the sort of thing that happened to careless supplicants to the gods, after all. That probably ruled out tilting back a head and trickling the water down a throat. She didn't particularly fancy her chances with having a clear killing machine wake up with its head cradled in her lap, metaphorically or otherwise.<br/><br/>Well then. She chewed her lower lip and unstoppered a skin. A little water could be wasted, right? Picking the one that looked like it would be the least angry at her when stirring—not at all randomly she assured herself—she held her breath and loosened her sword from its fastenings. She was all but standing on tiptoes, ready to scramble up Cogg in an instant, as she leaned forward and sprinkled a little water over the faceplate, suspecting she couldn't get the helmet off even if she tried, and even if she could that it would lead to a remarkably shortened lifespan. Hopefully there would be some kind of sensor that would stir the warrior from slumber. Or the sound of water on ceramite if nothing else.<br/><br/>Moreover, hopefully it would appreciate the gesture, or at least be confused for long enough that she could turn over the rest of the water as a greeting gift of sorts.