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Dragon had already, for now, forgotten his question. He could sense that eerie tingle around the other dragon, something like when he called on that fire that lived within his own belly. And there was something behind Ghanyarah's ears, now--crinkly and pale, like... like wax, or fat? Dragon had never yet seen ice, and had no idea what it was.

"...What are you doing?" he asked, at length--and then, eyeing Ghanyarah's strangely-flicking tongue, added, "Do it again?"

Curiosity filled his voice. This thing was like him, but not, and the differences intrigued him. Could it make fire, like he could...?

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Dragon blinked, whipping his li'l alligator head to watch as the Ghanyarah-dragon--after a magnificent display of shiver-cold magic--thwomped down off the tree root and into the water. He followed quickly, scrambling to the edge to look down, then dropping in after Ghanyarah with a loud splash.

The thing did not look at home in the water, like he did, no siree. In fact it seemed rather trapped, the huge frill-crown of ice at least floating, but the komodo struggling to lift the ice's weight.

"It's cold," Dragon noted. And then, instinctively, he moved closer, trying to get a grip on some of the ice with his claws. "Hold still." He could hardly let a brother-dragon wallow in the freezing cold water and die, now, could he? ...Or could he? It might be good to eat--but no. This was a maybe-friend and a probably-brother, and so Dragon--knowing only that hot was not cold, and Ghanyarah was cold, and he could make hot--tried to summon up his magic once more. His magic, now, had had time to subside, so it should be easy enough to blast some hot air at the ice. He'd just have to be careful not to boil the water with them both in it, that's all.

It was harder than he'd thought, what with the wriggly-lizard and the water sloshing around the ice, but he managed. He opened his maw, trying to move and position poor Ghanyarah for easy access to the ice, opening his alligator-maw and blasting out spumes of shimmering-hot air, melting it bit by bit. He couldn't do it all--not with the water around them--but maybe it would be enough to let the poor Komodo move freely.

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Dragon watched his new brother begin to laugh, after emerging from the water. He tilted his own head a bit, his own natural alligator "smile" widening slightly, jaw parting to let out one chuckle of his own. Then he spoke, watching the lizard carefully.

"You okay?" and then, close on the tail of that, "You did something--you made that... hard-cold-stuff. What was that?!

Ghanyarah's thrilled laughter made him worried, slightly nervous, even. Though he'd never admit it. What was he laughing at?! Was he going to bite him? But then a memory raced through his own mind--him scampering up the body of something much, much larger, snapping at it and sending fiery air in blasts, despite his tiny comparative size. The thrill that had come with it--he could see in the lizard's eyes that it was feeling something similar.

And Dragon was probably not a good peer influence. As the nervous tension flooded away he grinned, as best a reptile can, remembering that almost bloodthirsty thrill. But he didn't interrupt the other dragon's laughter, nor add to his questions.

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His laughter rang loud through the trees, exploding up into the still misty air like a gunshot against the silence. In the darkness and the water, Ghanyarah felt as ease. As an alligator was meant for the waters, as was the komodo dragon; while his clawed feet did not allow him the same ease of movement, he felt it was his calling. His element. He was a creature of the water too, and that much had become clear after shedding the crystalline structure from his head. Chunks of ice floated around them, not moving very far in the stagnant black waters. The beast laughed and until he ran out of breath; in the midst of it all, Dragon had asked a question, but that too had gone unnoticed while Ghanyarah struggled to come to terms with himself. Finally, the komodo dragon had fallen silent; that wide, open-mouthed smile etched into his jaw, seemingly frozen there as the sudden outburst of laughter fell away.

And he realized, he really didn't know how to swim.

Ghanyarah suddenly paddled, but it was still difficult to keep himself aloft. He blinked, sealing his jaws again as he tried to find a way to keep himself from going under. His body wriggled, curling and gliding in s-shapes while his feet paddled below. His tail swept side to side, and he focused on the alligator, noting how easily the creature stayed above the surface. "Teach Ghanyarah to swim like you." He said as he tried to stay afloat. Dragon's earlier question was long forgotten, replaced by the komodo dragon's desire to master this element of his.

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Dragon peered curiously at his brother, wondering what, exactly, he meant. His earlier observation that the Komodo didn't seem as well-fit to water as he seemed to be proving true, as Ghanyarah paddled clumsily.

Dragon stared.

"Swim?" he asked, almost absently. "What is swim?" Then, inadvertently, he answered Ghanyarah's question. "You're floating wrong," he declared. "Look. Like this."

He turned, flopping belly-first into slightly deeper water farther from the tree, inhaling audibly so that he floated higher. His legs paddled only to push him away from the reeds, and then he pulled them in, propelling himself with slow, lazy strokes of his tail. He did this until he was several meters away, then looked back over his shoulder toward Ghanyarah.

"You try," he said curtly, his tone brisk but not unfriendly, the exhale of air making him sink slightly but noticeably.

Wonder why he can't float? ...Wonder what Dad would think?

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Shockingly, the alligator didn't seem to understand what Ghanyarah meant by "swim". The word was inherent to him, coming as naturally as the water he commanded. That being said, the actual art of swimming would come just as easily as his control over it - Ghanyarah was still clumsy in the water, unable to get the hang of it even with focusing immensely. Dragon pointed out the flaw in his technique, that he was floating wrong. Ghanyarah didn't really know the right way to float, or how to float in the first place, so when the alligator took it upon himself to give an example of how to float, Ghanyarah paddled over to the root and clung to it, watching closely.

Dragon pushed himself away, into the deeper water. He cut through the surface of the water with ease and controlled his direction with his thick, paddle-like tail. Ghanyarah's tail wasn't like that, but it was still pretty thick. He swished it in the water, feeling volumes of murky liquid swirl around him. If he could push the water around, maybe it would help him swim better. The komodo dragon looked back over at Dragon, taking note of his movements so that perhaps he could mimic the alligator's technique. With a huff, Ghanyarah readied himself, pointing his body towards the deeper water. As the other reptile encouraged him, Ghanyarah took in a great big gulp of air and launched himself away from the root.

First, his body crashed into the water. A small wave splashed out from either side of his body, but once he had settled, he seemed well on his way towards meeting Dragon in the deeper water. His feet still paddled beneath him, but even using his tail as a rudder, he couldn't move all that well. So, he tried what came naturally - those s-shapes flowed through his body, wiggling his whole body in an effort to swim. And it worked! Of course, he needed practice, but with a stomach full of air Ghanyarah was able to swim his way over to Dragon. "This hard," He puffed, careful to keep in large breaths of air so he wouldn't lose his buoyancy.

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He observed the komodo's technique, eyeing him as he approached. It was... better, but still not perfect. "Put your feet away," he ordered, again demonstrating how his own could tuck up against his body for more streamlined, faster swimming.

Dragon then peered sidelong at the other floating lizard with curiosity.

What's he mean? What's hard? What's that thing on his head?!

Out of these thoughts, only one erupted from his toothed jaw.

"What's that thing on your head?" Dragon asked. He himself wasn't that familiar with gems; his own was flat, smooth and on his chest, so he'd seen it only once, briefly, and in his own reflection. Aquarian had frills. Maybe these were little-frills? Maybe they'd spread, and grow, as Ghanyarah grew? And speaking of frills. "What was cold stuff you made? I make fire," he added proudly.

He then swam slowly forward, away from the tree and down the channel, as if expecting Ghanyarah to take a leisurely float with him while they talked.

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