Kristoff sat on the blanket staring out at the river, hardly paying attention to the other rowers from various teams walking past him.
"There they are, finally!" he heard with an almost disgusted sigh. He whipped his head around, and saw Hans.
"I swear, if he wasn't in my boat," Kristoff muttered under his breath.
He saw Olaf and the four rowers in the boat he was coxswain of returning from the river, and Olaf giving the commands for them to set the boat back on the racks.
"I bet he took them off course," Hans said, loud enough for everyone around to hear. "They sure took long enough."
"Give them a break," Kristoff said, standing up to face Hans. "You were there with me out there today, there was a crosswind."
"Olaf is always bragging about the wind being on his side," Hans scoffed. "Serves him right, if you ask me."
Kristoff sighed, not believing that he was going to be defending Olaf. "He's enthusiastic. And, okay, maybe he's a bit weird. Who cares?"
Hans glared. "I'm just glad my car is finally out of the shop so I drove myself here."
Kristoff shrugged. It had been a mediocre day for everyone. The boats so far had been in second or third place. It was disappointing, but hardly the end of the world.
"Elsa is waving us over," Kristoff said. "Why don't you help us pack up the trailer so you can go home."