( In perfect sync with Tylor's signal, he exhaled, then, equally slow, equally gentle, like the wind swelling the rustling leaves and the loaning moss.

When Tylor pulls away, the assessment seems to remind him that he does, indeed, have some fluid in there still, and he should get it out. He coughs, half-curled fist to his lips. )

I do. ( Fortunately. ) I did try to stay down longer than I should've, though. There were visible tunnels under the waterline, and I thought they were intended paths. However, they were all blocked by invisible walls...