Fox's Glade Seafoam Eyes said, "The water's safe"

Just looking at those sad eyes moved Anselm in a way no soul had moved him before. Nausea and grief both cut at his throat, while shame shouldered past and set its cold grip on his heart. 

He wanted to ask ‘are you okay?’ - he wanted to be the man Etienne needed in that moment. But Anselm was a weak man, his constitutional spine contorted by his own bigoted hang ups. Men were not to talk of such things or show softness.

Clearing his throat, Anselm gilded right over what should have been said and instead roved into a mental thorny wildnerness he wished he’d never stepped foot in. Ve should get you some food.