The moment his body was moving, the nervous jitters melted away, and by the time a voice interrupted his thinking David was relaxed enough not to jump like a scared puppy. In truth, he'd probably been expecting to be interrupted at some point; this pool was Arla's domain, after all.
Looking up, David braced himself against the side and made an amused sort of sweeping gesture to the rest of the water. She looked all right, he noticed, giving her the same brief but practiced once-over he gave everyone after a fight. The people here weren't his responsibility, but David still liked to make sure -- perhaps, somewhat arrogantly, still liked to know what he had to work with.
In some miracle, the majority of his own injuries were bruising, swelling, tenderness, all of which tended to blend in with the color of his skin. Swim trunks tended to leave not too much as guesswork, but the odd cut here or there was probably safe for general display.
"I don't think I'd know what to do with this much water if I tried," he replied