[He's curled up as best as he can in Sampo's arms, which is to say...not very, he's a very long fish. Gepard knows this. But he tries. He keeps his eyes closed, breathing him in - in, out, in, out, in again - because this might be the point in which he's forced to really fucking realize some things he didn't want to realize, mainly about himself, some of them about Sampo, some of them about the both of them.

Sampo says he's lucky he decided to come down that day, and Gepard smiles, smothered against fabric and flesh and whatever else. Sampo asks questions. Is he fine? Was he sunburned?

Will he be okay? Gepard feels the cool touch of water and that's when he opens his eyes and forces himself to relax. He doesn't know if he's safe or not. That's not the worst part. The worst part is that despite not knowing if he's safe or not, that he feels safe in defiance of it all.

Sampo lowers him into the water.]

I- [He flexes his tail and winces.] Should be fine. [Eventually.] I told my family- my sisters I'd be gone for a few days. [Please don't ask why he took a few days vacation and promptly camped out in the cove.

And then Gepard yields to inevitability, because he feels...sore, crusty, raw in places. Not at all how he expected to meet his idiot again. He flexes his tail again and it feels better, but not good. Could he push himself? He could. He could probably swim back home. Should he?]

It seems that I'll probably be spending most of that time in here.