He doesn't exactly walk out of Orion-- it would be far, far too obvious to a sadistically cruel universe. The idea of running is utterly laughable. He doesn't even bounce, although it would be, admittedly, rather satisfying to pull off. Oh, no. Opie sneaks. He calculates the best route possible, with his highly intelligent and scientific mind, and is very cautious when taking it, lest reality spit on him yet again.

Considering that he's quite literally besieged with stupidity every time he dares leave home, he thinks his careful crawl through the tunnels extremely justified, thank you very much.

Burned rats. Tumbling out of windows. The stench of death. An agonizing hour of hysterical sobbing. Giant, rumbling, panic-inducing footsteps. An inexcusable lack of bananas. And he's not even a full cycle old, yet! Forgive him a bit of well-deserved paranoia.

This particular cave seems quiet enough, at least. The tunnel that had lead him here had been blissfully free of other sentient life, and he'd had to go out of his way to find this place. It could, perhaps, make a stupider possum feel a sense of hope-- Opie's not stupid, so he murders that feeling before it runs away from itself, although he's grateful for these moments of quiet.

A glint of... something draws his discerning eye, off in the distance, and he carefully picks his way towards it, mindful that idiocy could jump-scare him at any devastating moment.

Huh. It's something wet-- water?

Opie blinks. He knows what water is, of course he does, he's just never seen so much of it-- not at once, anyway. His full range of experience is small, lightly used puddles, and little else. Water has always been drinkable, but not particularly noteworthy. Unless he happened to get mud in-between his toes, then is was just annoying. He bends down to sniff--

Wait.

"Is that... me?" He raises an experimental paw, and his reflection practically waves back at him. Yes, it's you, you moron. "Huh. That's fucking weird." Opie cocks his head. Very fucking weird, although he's actually pretty handsome; if you ask him, anyway.

He sidles along the pool for a moment, indecisive. A part of him feels strangely compelled to find out if this water will get him dirty if he touches it, while another screams that leaving his ledge usually results in horrible tragedy. The feelings are somewhat contradictory, and he needs a moment to fight off a headache.

Though, he rationalizes, if this turns out to be gross and obnoxious, he could always just go back home. There was probably no real harm in at least trying it out, right? Mind oddly made up, Opie sticks a tiny digit into the water-- only to reel back with a tiny hiss. That's cold!

It is, in reality, perhaps only moderately lukewarm. This is, naturally, the most devastating outcome that he could have imagined, and Opie despairs that he'll never leave home ever again, until the universe suffers some sort of red or blue shift. With a squeal of indignation, he lashes out at the offending pool with his chaotic magicka;

only to feel a very brief burst of warmth;

and, instinctively, he knows he's changed it to a more comfortable temperature... somehow.

"Huh. That's new," says Opie idly. Hesitant, he slowly slides his paw back into the water. "Oh my fucking—"

It's the probably the best thing he's ever felt in his life.

Reluctance now completely forgotten about, the possum eagerly wades into the pool. It only takes a few minutes of kicking and splashing before he discovers that he actually floats in it rather effortlessly. Like his bouncing, but with significantly less chance of painful death, he realizes gleefully. It's all actually very soothing, and Opie begins to doze off, limbs hanging lazily in the water, occasionally letting out a snuffle of sheer bliss.

"This was absolutely worth it," he murmurs to himself, at some point-- he isn't really keeping track, anymore.

Fahl had always been an iguana with a routine, a series of caves to visit and tunnels to melt the ice along as he traveled between them. Once that list had been Pisces, Eridanus, and Fornax—home, personal buffet, and relaxing vacation spot respectively. But times had changed, himself more than once as well, and the precise order had been shaken up and added onto so that his experience was more varied than ever before. It could be seen in the fact he every so often considered wandering his way back to Leo and its wonderful warm waters to practice within them. His more frequent attempts at navigating Cetus despite its fog and persistent muck reflected that too. As a creature of habit, though, new traditions would always form as something to cling to when all else lacked stability, constantly mutating body included; for Eridanus this meant, strange of a choice as it was, that the Eyes found themselves with a regular guest when once there'd been rarely any.

Call it paranoia, ego, whatever you like, but the site of Nemean's punishment served as a suitable balm for the soul. Troubles washed away staring into those calm depths, knowing within them turmoil brewed, well-deserved for an individual of her awful stripe. Although he hadn't the privilege to witness justice served himself, the tale was enough to imagine the torment in triumphant detail. And while his teacher, sight gloriously restored, crowed over her fate with an endearing amount of profanity, he simply preferred to lounge beside whichever pool seemed best at the moment, basking in the cave lights and smiling at the thought of living better than she would from now on.

Of course sometimes he dabbled in being petty; who wouldn't? Splashing in the Eyes themselves and tampering with its temperature while showcasing a few choice insults he'd been polishing for the right opportunity had its fun elements, as Fahl was certain Imp would agree with if asked. Either way, every time he came here after a particularly frustrating moment, contentment was what he left with, held firmly within his grinning jaws and displayed as a colorful shifting mural upon his scales.

Despite its new purpose, there'd been no surge in the amount of Gembound seen by the pools, none come to gawk at the giggling sadist laid low at last by her magical equals and the aid of a few intrepid survivors. Brushing aside ferns to discover someone present therefore came as a small surprise. More so was the audacity in drowsing off while floating upon the still waters.

Fahl wondered if Nemean could tell when the surface of her prison was disturbed. The vicious streak of vengeance within him dearly hoped so, a furry weight pressing upon her while she boiled and screamed for a mercy that would never come.

The rodent-like stranger seeming very much at peace, a part of him debated slipping away without causing a disturbance and leaving to practice magic or controlling his unruly camouflage. He almost did if not for a usually dormant prankster tendency, courtesy of Imp's acquaintance, rearing its head and announcing a prime opportunity for a harmless laugh. Sucking in a breath, ensuing giddiness turned his scales mottled orange, white, and yellow. When he released it, rushing over, Fahl let out a bellow that threatened to shake the leaves from the trees and startled birds, twittering in a panic, from their perches.

"No! What the fuck do you think you're doing in there. Get out before she peels the flesh off your bones, damn it!"

His head feeling light, his run became an uncoordinated stumble as he skidded to a halt beside the pools. Whether that helped sell his performance or not, he hadn't the faintest clue. Vision blurring while his heavily thumping heartbeat reverberated off the walls of his skull, a delirious thought occurred to him: speaking of fainting, hopefully his decision to expend his entire lung capacity in one burst wouldn't cause him to keel over. The joke, after all, wasn't supposed to be on him.

@Opie