For several heartbeats, Jocelynn said nothing, gripping the rough tiller with her hands and steering the coble upriver while listening to the steady, rhythmic splashing of Ashlynn's oars in the water.
There were a dozen questions in her heart that were desperate for answers, but each time one came close to her lips, another one pulled it back down, like crabs in a bucket that wouldn't let any of their brethren escape.
Ashlynn, for her part, didn't push. She offered nothing and asked nothing, allowing Jocelynn to collect her thoughts at her own pace while she rowed smoothly from the calm, sluggish waters of the river bend's 'belly' into the swifter current upriver where the river narrowed.
Eventually, Jocelynn collected enough of her thoughts to speak, though she couldn't quite work up the courage to ask her questions directly.
