More often than not, Eridanus could be relied upon as one of the more comfortable spots among the caves. The climate, for all its humidity, was temperate when set beside the likes of Fornax and Leo. Greenery thrived here, a lush paradise compared to the cold, wet-slicked stone of Pisces. To an iguana reliant upon the algae within shallow pools, regrettably not brave enough to dive into his home cave's lagoon—where that Master, his touch frigid and absent of fire, dwelled—the bountiful mosses and such were a buffet enough to stave off occasional hunger pangs during leaner cycles. So often did he frequent this place that his trips could be considered routine more than vacation. And almost always what brought him here was the promise of a hearty meal to keep his furnace of a body burning.

But this time, not so. With his shoulders squared and head held high, Fahl sought more than relief for an underfilled stomach. Weaving through ferns and rocks and many a tree, he scanned his surroundings for pops of color tucked inside the shadows of the jungle canopy: berries, desired for pigment instead of taste.

The day was far from the best, the air chiller than usual and the earth especially damp after a recent rain. Running around, fueled by a powerful determination, these imperfections were more apparent than ever. Dirt spattered scales as he bounded along, hiding their ever-fluctuating shades and hues beneath filth. Mud encrusted his dragging train of tailfins. Gemstone an eternally agonizing obstruction for him, it hindered him in his impatient sweep of the area, causing wheezes to rise out of his chest as he expended air faster than he could inhale. All these combined resulted in a search that looked like blundering as he constantly had to pause to tidy himself or plod about while gasping for breath.

"Uuhhh... hhhh... fffuck!"

Branches snapped. Exhaustion had overcome Fahl for the moment and sent him toppling sideways into a bush. A stroke of luck was all that prevented him from crashing directly into the meager crop of fruit it bore; tiny, barely ripened to a tantalizing red, they quivered above him on the verge of breaking free from their stems and dropping.

He was tempted to let them do just that. Finding some art supplies for his perhaps far too ambitious endeavor now cost him an aching shoulder.

Master-induced changes and time's passage included, Fahl's lack of immediate familiarity to the not quite stranger was understandable. None that'd fought the Kraken during that mission in the depths of Fornax had been such a combination of reptile and fish, nor had any sported such a drab appearance to boot. Where his stagger had exposed him to a liberal coating of dirt, splashed up by the heavy fall of his feet as he'd wandered, the crash had converted that into an entire muddy suit. He looked like a creature dredged out of a pond's murky bottom, bathed in the shit in which it'd burrowed. Fortunately, he was unaware of the extent of his current indignity, else he might've imitated such behavior in an attempt to hide; no doubt that would've only furthered his own shame, but surely there were limits to how much a bad impression could worsen.

Flopped into a position that tucked chin into chest, Fahl answered to his name much like he did to the mat of twigs prodding into his side: a barely audible groan of recognition. A dark eye, camouflaged if not for a visible pupil by the uniform slathering of brown over scales, watched as glowing blue marks highlighted eyes of an even redder hue than the berries suspended before them.

He squinted, hot breath rasping inside his throat at the offer of aid. Incapable of rattling dorsal spines like a warrior would his saber, rejection could not be expressed with the sharpness it required. So a weak sigh came instead as he heaved himself up to crawl on forearms, head lowered, from the confines of the bush.

"Um, thanks..."

Gratitude was difficult to muster when bitterness laced his saliva. It longed to slip out with the tiniest of remarks, the smallest of agitated hisses. But he tried. Whoever his help was, they knew him, and so he couldn't allow his words to reflect his injured pride. His gaze roamed their form, searching for something recognizable in it. For any other Gembound, this would've failed, but for them—

"Oh." Although mud concealed the finer details of the emotions coursing through him, the intake of breath and quick correction of his posture couldn't be easily missed. "It's..." He strained for a suitable description, one better than the simplistic "light guy" that almost sprang to his tongue. "It's... you, partner."

In all the chaos of the Kraken fight, he'd lost sight of his temporary comrade. And after, with Farina's gift doing its unpleasant work upon him, their survival hadn't been on his mind as much as the terror of being consumed by his own stone. Their fate had been uncertain to him as he emerged from the Black City, whether they'd weathered the illness and hallucinations as he had or wordlessly succumbed to them. If his inexperienced guidance had led them astray. But here they were, no worse for wear than him. Different, too, as should have been expected.

"How, uh, where have you been? And what's up with... well, everything." He waved a paw, gesturing at Epsilon's entire body. Another instance of Farina supposedly making improvements most probably, but to what end, he had no clue.