"You don't need to worry." This, in and of itself, will not be enough to deter Riku- who he has not known particularly long, but who he knows will worry anyway. It's part of the reason that he doesn't leave the thought there, even if he does pause just long enough to put the canteen aside. To reach for a cloth and begin to fold it. One of Bruce's earliest lessons about the world had been about its unpredictability- about how strange and volatile it could be. He armors himself with information, and it's an armor he extends to Riku now.

"I've been collecting supplies since I arrived. For emergencies."

There's enough water that's left for Bruce to not just fold the towel, but to soak it. It takes some careful maneuvering after the split he's put together on two fingers, but Bruce has always had a methodical, patient nature. He takes each end in hand and wrings it carefully, leaves enough moisture behind that he won't have to rely entirely on friction, and he carefully closes the distance again. The body's instinctive desire to slake his thirst has reopened the gash that splits Riku's bottom lip. It's this cut that Bruce tends to now, dabbing gently at the fresh blood- holding the cloth against his skin so that some of the cold might soak in.

"I'll take care of your wrists in a few hours, once I can bring you down. Is there anything else you need?"