I. In the Hold
Deniv turns to Rebeccah, holding the wet cloak out to her. Here. It's wet, but it's wool. It will keep you warm even wet. He then walks ahead a little bit, as if lost in his own world. She can see the scars striped across his back, some criss-crossing, as if he has been under the lash several times, but they are wide. Some are still the angry pink of recent healing.
As he walks, he uses the head of a crossbow bolt to cut the remains of his shirt into strips. One of the strips is used to tie two of the bolts together and sling them over his left shoulder, points down. He then breaks the shaft of the third so that their is a bit more than the width of his hand attached to the broadhead. The rest of the shaft gets wrapped loosely in strips, then tucked under his arm as he wraps a strip of cloth around his make-shift knife to give it some thickness for a better grip. Wringing water from the cloth, he wrings it so it is tight around the shaft before tying it off. Leather would work better, especially since it would shrink as it dries, but resources are limited.
He drops back, holding out the make-shift weapon to her. Would you like one? Incase you need to protect yourself?