Once the city's shifted, Gren goes to stand near the ocean, and he doesn't seem to notice or care that he's getting wet from the rain. He's looking out at the churning, wine-dark see and its rocky shores with something like familiarity on his face-- he was born on a Nordic island, after all.

He does notice, though, some lady having a temper tantrum not that far away, and her annoyed question.

"Nope," he says, "I voted for the iceball planet, but I'll take it. This is better than bein' in the middle of a fuckin' jungle."

He's not really built to tolerate heat, and he's real goddamn tired of being hot all the time after that stint in the desert. But oceans? He can handle oceans. He can handle oceans all goddamn day.