Sound is still a little fuzzy, and his primary instinct is to just get this person away from the mess that's probably all over the brush, but he still shifts his head towards her, struggling to pull his eyes open against the blinding sunlight.

Water. It... it might be okay. If she doesn't touch him. Maybe just dump him in the fountain again or something. Heh.

That's a little morbid.

"Water-- yeah. Yeah. Okay."