[ He can see it in her face, the way she's holding back everything he's been balling up since he got here. Since he'd shamefully given up looking for Noctis as determinedly as he'd started, months ago. So he gives her that time, to grieve, to hope, to worry, to wonder, and waits for her to swallow it back down like he knows she can. She earns a crooked smile, just as sad as the look in her eyes, and gives a small roll of a shrug. ]

Most things around here don't really run on wisdom. You just sort of have to accept what's happening and find a way to get it done.

[ He isn't about to explain how he's learned that perhaps the hardest way possible, twice over. She's clearly only just woken up here, and he recalls vividly how disorienting and overwhelming those first few days are. She doesn't need to know just how bad it's going to get, and how much worse than that it could get, until she's had at least a meal and a night's sleep.

So, instead, he turns towards the group of lifeguards, squawking away at each other, each of the masculine ones almost as large as he is. There's no real telling what to expect from them, though he doesn't exactly trust that they're anything like decent lifeguards. Not with the way they hover together and chat; not with the way they circle the barbecue stand like vultures. ]

Maybe we can convince them to hand over some feathers and a pair of shorts. It doesn't say you have to take them off someone else, right?

[ He strides beside her, square-shouldered and imposing, looking even more the part of a rank higher than he is. He's seen that sometimes the "wildcards" get gifted—and sometimes they get punished. He isn't quite sure yet which one she might be in for, and he'll do his damnedest to prevent the latter. ]

I guess if you do, I'll just get them to give me a new pair, and you can have mine then.