pure sweet violent hearts

Well, they could always abandon the water - except that Bhreac seemed interested in swimming, and he liked her company. So, what the hey, may as well learn to swim. He looked back at the water (silencing himself before mentioning that "speckled" was a lot like "spot" and it was really funny to him that Bhreac's name was essentially Gaelic for "spot" - like, who does that to their kid?) and then back to her, and then back at the water.

Riordan began to tentatively walk in to the pool, feeling the chill of the water as it was sucked up by his fur. He felt the wetness and was instantly dissatisfied by it, and the closer he got to the deep dark, the slower he moved. The water could reach his shoulders by the time he stopped walking; his tail was drifting in the water behind him. "-mind you," he heard Bhreac speaking, and his ears pivoted. He thought of moving in reverse, at least so he felt safer - so he did that, backing out a few steps so that the water was up this elbows instead. "the proper response was 'no, Bhreac, you're not a bummer at all."

"Not a bummer, Bhreac," he parroted, sort of, and looked disparagingly down at the water as it flowed around his paws. Almost like a child who wordlessly asked, okay mum, is this far enough? time to go home?.