Water, water water. Zanzibar Graves was always in need of water for some experiment or other. Where it came from and where it flowed were of great importance of course, and he had a few favorite streams he preferred to visit.
Which brought him here, to this one, happily burbling its way across the lands. It was a quick flight when he didn't have Ibi with him, so he took advantage and dropped tidily to the ground, the flasks in the pouch he wore chiming against one another faintly.
It wasn't until he'd selected one and held the corked end between his teeth, until he'd done a survey up and down the water's edge thar he even noticed the mare lifting her head from a drink.
"Oh! Ah. Er, ooo..." hecbegan, then realized he'd get nowhere with his mouth full and carefully tucked the flask away again. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"I don't suppose you remember whether you sipped from up or downstream, do you?"