Near silence had taken over the swamp. Aquarian was gone from the view of those above water, along with his dramatic screeches, and all that filled the void left by his absence were Fahl's words. Those yet unanswered, the iguana side-shuffled through the muck, seeking to be better aligned with Imp's line of sight. Though the rotten carcass pile was gone, the disappeared serpent having swallowed it, revolting vestiges of its stench lingered; as he spoke, they wormed down his throat and nostrils, another obstacle for him besides a stone-embedded tongue to push syllables past.

"Yeah, she could probably do something," he said. "But I don't think she'd do it for nothing. And I don't know if she'd take any special requests on what to... well, alter." Knowing what little he did about her, Imp might end up with a couple of fins on his ass for good measure. Or crab claws, as a special touch of hers. "Maybe if you... if we... did a big favor for her, especially involving Nemean, she might be inclined to."

As if to assuage a prickle of doubt, a glance was cast to the water, dark and still like the great Aquarian had never been there.

A bit risky trying to curry favor with a Master, considering what their temperaments were, but what else could he offer? Farina wanted loyalists, and he wanted a certain sprite to bleed for her actions. Nothing he'd heard here indicated he should be more bothered by her than Nemean. So far their sides seemed to match, regardless of concern. Therefore, if this alliance helped his teacher regain sight, it was one he'd willingly maintain.

"Shit, maybe she'd give you Nemean's eyes. Anything that ugly part of you though?" Fahl gagged, not just for a joke but also due to the stinking rot getting to him. "Not the best idea."

Were Fahl not concentrated on slowing his churning stomach, he might have bantered more about the lacking quality of Nemean's eyes: how they'd be better suited as fish food and, even then, that feeding aquatic Lessers such garbage would be tantamount to poisoning them. In a more serious vein, he might've even dared to ask more about the monster that'd blinded his teacher or this other traitor that wasn't Nemean, the latter someone he'd certainly never heard of before. Choking back twinges of illness, though, prevented him from voicing more than an agreeable rumble of noise at the vengeful sentiments expressed.

While not much could be said, the hue-changing tapestry known as his body revealed plenty to those savvy enough to interpret its patterns. Thick stripes of sunset orange burned into the underside of his chin and streaked down his throat. They shifted soon after to scarlet, standing out as a series of fresh vertical gouges upon a background of dark scales.

Blowing air harshly through his nostrils in a desperate attempt to ward off persistent stench of the long-dead and devoured, he nodded and swallowed—once, twice, thrice—before hazarding speech without significant worry of something worse than words spilling from his mouth.

"I—well, sir, it's been some time since I've gone anywhere near Fornax. Much less down there. But if she's on the move, surely someone would've noticed." Tense with uncertainty, Fahl felt his throat temporarily close off, blocked off by his tongue pressing firm against the roof of his mouth. Eyes flickered back and forth between Dragon and Imp as he considered the suggestion offered to him.

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Rest sounds... fine."

So long as he could distance himself from the worst of this damp swamp air. Travel took its toll on him like it did anyone else, but that was the bigger concern. Even his vivid imagination had been unable to conceive just how badly a whole collection of rotten things could smell.

"A glowing map? How's that work?" Unmentioned was how oblivious he was to the very concept of a map. Normally, he'd be more inclined to be open about his cluelessness around Imp, but with another set of eyes watching? Not a chance. "Did one of you draw it?"

So his shot in the dark had not been a complete miss: maps were indeed drawings, at least according to the description of the lines and such that composed this particular one. A relieved sigh could have left him in response to the elder Gembound's clarification of what awaited them at the new destination. Instead huffs of exertion overrode it as Fahl yanked himself free from a rather stubborn section of mud that somewhat hindered his following Dragon. Preoccupied with struggling against the usual issues inherent to traversing swampland, mainly ground slippery and sinking at every step, speech was monosyllabic at best despite the few questions he had.

"Eve," Fahl muttered. A nice name—of course any name he could state in as few breaths as possible qualified as a likeable one. If he were to ever meet her, perhaps asking about how exactly she accomplished this so-called glowing effect would be on the agenda. Although it seemed almost heretical to even entertain the thought, he'd like to learn how to do so himself if possible. His main focus was discovering new methods of magical offense and utility, but imagine how much this could elevate art beyond marking out various locations.

Was this done by magic? Dragon had only said that she'd made the map glow but not through what means. If it was, though, what element had she drawn from? Not fire, no; surely that would've left scorch marks. But something similar might've worked. Light?

That'd be fortunate if so. The similarity to his native element might allow him to learn it easier.

But what if there was no magic involved? Maybe there was a special pigment he'd never heard of before that possessed this unique characteristic. How could he recognize where to obtain it from? Reason said it would have to be from something that glows, similar to how you needed to get ahold of something red in order to draw in red. Was he aware of anything like that?

Busy running through a list of every plant and mineral he'd encountered in his lifespan, Fahl nearly didn't catch Imp's quick expression of gratitude. But once the words sank in, his mind stuttered to a halt.

"Tha—?"

If not for a quick recovery, the student would've tripped over his own legs and fallen face-first into the muck. Silver crackled over his hide for an instant like lightning. Mouth agape, unformed words hissed from the back of his throat.

Many a time Imp had offered him enthusiastic praise, encouragement. This tone, though, he was not acquainted with. Hearing it made his head feel lightweight and caused his chin to lift ceilingward. Gold washed over his chest and underbelly. He sucked in a mighty lungful of air as if to drink in deeply this sensation which swelled his heart to point of bursting out of the ribcage.

"Fuuuck, Imp," he said at last, head lowering to allow breath to whoosh out in a long sigh. "It's the least I can do."

His teacher had already scrambled a fair length in front while he'd grappled for an appropriate reaction. Nevertheless, it couldn't have gone unspoken.

When they eventually paused a ways off from the map's location, Fahl squinted through the fog. True to Dragon's word, a hint of light could be noticed in the distance. A polite nod accompanied a thankful murmur to the alligator. Then, striding forwards past him, he shook mud off the bottom of his feet and turned to Imp.

"Well." An exaggerated yawn pried his jaws wide open. Almost eager to obey his mental command, heat sprang up around him. "I think I can take it from here. We good to go?"