Judas watched her, and sighed. He felt pity for her, as much as he did for himself. He always had a healthy amount of pity for himself. Or unhealthy. However you looked at it.
"Don't get hypothermia in there," he said. That water looked cold. "Do you wanna get stoned out of your gourd instead? Maybe that'll help..." Pot was good for relaxing, right? Pain relief? Disconnecting from the discomforts of the body? Maybe it'd work for her.