Witch's Marsh I'm in my tropical love-land.

Kukulkan had learned nothing, it seemed, from his last experience with Ibis. Once again, he'd managed to terrifying the small thing and it left him with a sinking pit in his gut, a flush in his cheeks, and of course the first thing to leave his lips was an urgent, "Ahhhh shit, shit shit shit--"

For a split second he dipped down an inch, considering for a second whether he should just disappear into the waters as though it could somehow undo what had been done. But just as quickly he kicked his legs to propel himself out - one quick stride and he felt the sudden rush of frigid air against his soaked furs. It was as unwelcome as it was unpleasant, and yet another reminder of the fact the boy was a foreigner, not attuned to the nuances of life here. All of this paled in comparison with the twisting in his gut, from the look in Ibis's face.

The way those sad emeralds stared in horror, a rabbit caught by the gaze of a predator.

Her response, controlled and gentle, might have offered a bit of ease, that reassurance that she was in fact okay. Kukulkan knew better though - an actor could see through the act. Ears flattened themselves as his form lumbered to the edge of the waters, coming up a yard to Ibis's left and turning to face her as she faced the now-rippling reflections of the heavens. "I, I didn' mean'ta," Though gentle and warm, his voice was noticeably quieter than usual. "I jus' didn' see ya, an' then I though' maybe if'n I said somethin' first ya wouldn't be scared, an'--" He'd dip his head down a bit, or perhaps his shoulders had just given way.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice also took a turn, and it further wrenched that horrible feeling in his gut. Each word she spoke felt as though it added ad infinitum to the weight that bore down upon the two of them, a sort of cold sorrow that sunk into his bones the same as the chill from the waters had. Guilt had its hand firmly atop his heart at the mention of her loss, and this time his smile finally faded, a somber frown taking its place. As she attempted to change the subject, he held his silence for a moment - a rarity, for sure - while he weighed whether or not to draw it back. Would it hurt her more to talk about it? Could the distraction truly be better?

"I mean, sorta," he had caved, an awkward smile splitting with his teeth poking out in that awkward grin. Shrugging his shoulders, he'd left one paw out of the water, feel the wave of frozen bites from the air surrounding it, and stooped it back down into the waters. While he could tell he was no warmer in the pond itself, it was a medical mystery as to why it felt warmer. "But I guess it'sa too late at this point y'know. An' I like th'water..." Small comforts in the overwhelming presence of agony, clinging to the glimmer of light in a realm of toxic shadows. Though it wasn't healthy, it was familiar.

Raised an amoral sinner, Kukulkan found greater comfort in the cradle of familiarity than the reassurance of stability.

It don' really matter though, ain't like I can't warm meself up. Thick-bloode' an' all." The faint ripples danced around his ankles as he stood there, with only the occasional drip from the residual wetness accumulated his belly. Despite his undeniable condition, clearly freezing and soaked, he couldn't tell who was truly colder in that moment. The warmth around her seemed fragile, as though it had once been a part of her, but now found itself so weary, so threatened, it could only cling and linger.

"D-- d'ya wanna talk?"
The weight hung heavy, and K intended to break it.

@Ibis