“Of course, just let me put my clothes back on” Falke nods in understanding, testing his newfound range of motion under the water and finding it satisfactory - nay, far better than satisfactory. He feels fucking great and the only reason to linger would be for science - which is not a priority at the moment. Taking the few steps back to the lip of the lip of the pool, the Fixer gingerly maneuvers out of the water, sweat and water mingling as he begins to shake off a bit. Hm. Drying off may be futile.
Regardless, the glistening man feels the need to return to some semblance of proprietary and with a hand on the wall out of habit, forces first one leg through his pants, then the other. A little shimmy and he’s reclothed from the waste down. “Thanks you for the indulgence,” he offers with a crooked smile before heaving the pack back on his shoulders, shirt looped around his neck.
With a sort of expectation in his dark brown eyes, he looks back to the demigoddess. “After you.”
{Fin.}
