You sure don't sound worried for a guy who thinks he might have had a dose of fast-acting poison.

[ Fuuta grumbles and gripes, because of course he grumbles and gripes, but that's not mutually exclusive with doing as he'd implied he would. Because once he takes on a responsibility, he fucking follows through on it, like he's supposed to.

And so he sighs, but dutifully takes Kleken's held-out ... wrist. Which still feels a little embarrassing, to be honest, but is preferable to holding hands, so. Fingers gripping tight around the guy's wrist, he just starts leading the way down the beach, casting about over their surroundings in search of that first-aid tent. ]

Thought it was this way ...