*inwardly bristles, though there is no break in the smoothness of his dismount, no edge in his muttered command to Unspeak ([will you let your lady drink alone?])*
*gives no sign that he has heard his horse's knowing whicker of reply ([remember what a pleasant time you're having, at least for my sake]) as he walks over to you, sits down on the grass near the water's edge, stretching his legs*
Sit with me. *invitingly, though his eyes flash with the anger of a thousand racing thoughts (easy...some insults she does not know)* I assure you, Nature will not bite. *more to himself than to you* And I shall endeavor to be less hasty.