[ At least the boat is steadying, and Flynn with it. His own stomach is swooping with nerves and fear he can't let himself acknowledge. He tries to swallow around it all like he has taught himself, compress it into a little ball to be ignored.

The river is dragging them inexorably toward damp canyon walls, and it's hard to miss the massive raven statues like warnings flanking their tiny boat. Flynn looks up at them with his brows furrowed, watching their slow creep closer. ]

Given they deposited us here, I think it's unlikely. They could have been polite enough to give us oars.

[ He has some feedback for these birds, thank you very much. ]

More to the point, [ Tearing his eyes away from those imposing statues is hard, but Flynn manages it after a moment. There's a small, polite frown stuck on his face. ] I don't like the look of that water. Or... anything else. Being warned about strange things is really not enough to prepare one for being spirited to a river without logic or permission.

(( ooc: you are a-okay!! happy to keep this thing going :) ))