"That's quite alright", he replied gently, unabashed as she fell into his hard chest and then moved away. She was blushing under the parasol. What a pretty thing (... the girl, not the parasol). And so strange to be along for this adventure, like a water-logged petal dodging the dainty stream and instead choosing to crash into the wild, dark ocean. Arven was a risk, he knew this well; was she lacking in this knowledge? Or did she simply care for it not?

He'd been distracted for a moment, but now returned his verdant-green eyes to the rabbit hole. "Virgil is no more bothered by the rain than his master is", he replied, confident that the ferret had left the burrow and (for whatever reason) wandered somewhere else.

"Having said that — I wouldn't mind crisping up a bit" They were beneath the thick woodland canopy now, where only the occasional raindrop fell. He took out his wand to perform a drying spell, but offered to the perform it on the lady first. She could likely cast the spell herself, but courtesy was courtesy. "Care for a drying charm?"