Carlisle's voice comes softly from behind Ignis, accompanied by the sound of footsteps on the rocky beach, stones dislodged and jostled with every uneven step. He stops a few feet from the other man, his brow knitting as he tries to discern just what it is he's doing. Contemplating a swim? Collecting shells? Attempting to talk himself out of his fear of the water? No, those latter two are rather more his own preferences than Ignis', Carlisle assumes.
He follows the direction of Ignis' gaze, but sees nothing in the water of note -- nothing he would note, at least. "You cannot be thinking of swimming in that."
Going with both!
Carlisle's voice comes softly from behind Ignis, accompanied by the sound of footsteps on the rocky beach, stones dislodged and jostled with every uneven step. He stops a few feet from the other man, his brow knitting as he tries to discern just what it is he's doing. Contemplating a swim? Collecting shells? Attempting to talk himself out of his fear of the water? No, those latter two are rather more his own preferences than Ignis', Carlisle assumes.
He follows the direction of Ignis' gaze, but sees nothing in the water of note -- nothing he would note, at least. "You cannot be thinking of swimming in that."