While she was gone, Steve began the rather onerous task of pulling out his wet belongings from the napsack. As he'd suspected, everything but what was in the very middle had been drenched. One pair of pants seemed to be only somewhat damp, so he laid those over a chair by the bed for morning. His correspondence with Dr. Erskine, however, had been stored along the outside of the pack near the top, so that he could easily reach it should he need a reminder of dates and places.

"Dammit," he swore under his breath, holding the paper gingerly, trying not to make the ink run any more than it had already. He could still read it where it had soaked into the paper, but it was faint. He'd have to write it out again before it became illegible.

Glancing over as Marie reappeared with his provisions, he bit his lip for a moment. "I can do that," he told her. "Actually... might I borrow something to write with?" He moved the paper minutely, unable to keep from staring as a drop of inky water fell from the corner. "It seems some of my own correspondence has been damaged, and I need some of this information for my travels. I'm... so sorry for the inconvenience."