She had warned him about the rivers, and @Morganna had not lied. Her directions had been true so far, for he had long passed the falls, and the grove had lay beyond that first river. He had stood and considered it for a short time, respecting the power of water though he did not fear it; deep water had saved his life, after all. Still, matters were made a little more complex with the fact that he was carrying a dead bird with him, its long brown neck gripped in his teeth. Patience and careful planning had let him overcome the river's trial, with goose intact. She had told him of another river after the first, but he had no reason to believe that he would be unable to tackle it as easily.
Still, it was a decent opportunity to pause, and so once he came across that second river as he was continuing southward, Craw placed the slowly stiffening body on the ground and sat beside the river's bank, keeping his prize in sight. He did not want to risk losing his gift when he had already brought it so far. Lowering his head to the water, he sated his thirst, eyes watching the light dance off the fluid surface. It was newly midday, the sun as high and bright as it would ever be, and the air was still and quiet. It was entirely peaceful and lonely. He hoped that the willows of Morganna's home would prove more engaging.
Much of his mind, of late, had been occupied by her situation, though he knew that he did not have enough information to formulate any plans. His only goal was to reach the territory as fast as possible, now. It felt good to have ambition that moved beyond surviving until the next day. It felt like progress.