[That's a suggestion he wasn't expecting. He inches closer to the knife again, gripping the handle to slip it out of the dirt. Dirt clumps around the blood, red still peaking through as he turns it over in his hand.]

Do you really expect I'll be safe all the way to some sort of water source here? [He honestly doesn't even know where he can find water. He's used to it being more rare. Holy.] I've heard of some sort of murder. Will I not be caught in the middle?