Menthe was half-asleep and lying on her stomach on the burning sand with her feet tucked behind her, sunbathing under the immense heat of the desert sun. It wasn't something one could do for terribly long without overheating (or, in her case, getting a nasty sunburn) but the ocean, cold as ever, was only a few short feet away so she wasn't worried.

Something thumped into the sand beside her, causing her to wake with a sort of musical "Grrup?" sound and turn her head. A green aquatic was lying with his head on his paws, looking at her with wide eyes. He had the size and build of a whelp a good few years younger than her, but his proportions were much older. If he was the age she thought he was, he would've still been clicking his beak at her to say, "I'm a baby, don't hurt me!"

"You're Jona?" she asked, increasingly uncertain. He didn't match the description she'd heard when she got here. It seemed like this tark'ee was older than she was.

He didn't say anything. He just stared at her, looking sort of sad.

Well, that seemed to confirm it. Menthe rolled onto her side to look at him better, but also so that he didn't think she was being dismissive of him. "Well, I'm Menthe. That's an Earth word, it's a type of plant that's always cold." She let her eyes fall closed again. "It's a nice day, isn't it?"

Naturally, Jona remained silent. After a few minutes, he shuffled slightly forward. Menthe opened her eyes to find him a couple inches closer to her. She watched him for a long while before she closed her eyes again. A few more minutes past, and he shuffled forward again. She only opened one eye this time, an amused smile creeping onto her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked, amusement creeping into her tone.

Jona shook his head minutely.

"Ah. So it's terminal?"

He was so surprised that he in turn did something surprising— he laughed. It was only really a sharp exhale, a little puff of air accompanied by a smile, but Menthe was delighted. From what she'd been told when she'd gotten here, nobody had gotten a sound out of Jona since he'd come to Hakira.

She rolled onto her side again, not to block him off but to invite him closer. "Do you want to sunbathe with me?" she asked. "I'm going to go back in the water when I get hot, but you're welcome to join me then too, if you want."

There was no further response, but after a moment she watched Jona inch a little closer, align himself to be more or less parallel with her, and stretch out as far as he could while keeping his feet mostly under him. He didn't close his eyes all the way, alert to every little noise and whistle of the wind, but he seemed to be enjoying the sun at least.

Menthe liked the desert. She had been a little wary of it at first, being told that she'd be moving to Issiq. The main thing she knew about deserts was their stunning *lack* of water, but really Hakira was a beach. Hot sun and cold water were immensely pleasant, especially when a nice breeze started up. It did get a little cold at night, but she wasn't really bothered by cold. She was still holding onto the last of her baby fat, for one thing, but it didn't seem like she'd lose enough to be cold in the late Kerah desert anyway.

Jona seemed to like it here, too. He looked healthy enough… although she was looking at him closely again. He really did look strange.

"How old are you, anyway?"

He opened his eyes the rest of the way, but he didn't look at her. He just tensed his shoulders and seemed to shrink in on himself like he was scared of the question. However old he was, it was clear Jona was used to making himself small.

Menthe watched him a while longer until he relaxed and then closed her eyes again. The two of them laid there in companionable silence until Menthe could tell she was close to starting to get a sunburn. She stood up and stretched like a cat and told him, "I'm going swimming. You can come with me if you want."

She took a few steps and then launched herself forward into the surf. It wasn't a terribly graceful motion, but it was sufficient to get most of her body underwater. Menthe knew enough to keep her head high as she did it, though— the water wasn't *cold,* not by wave tark'ee standards, but compared to the hot sun it was definitely cold enough to make her gasp! It was Late Kerah, after all.

She dunked her head once it was safe to, doing a little twirl and then turning to see if Jona would follow her.

He was standing ankle-deep in the ocean, letting the waves lap against his paws. Poor Jona looked like he was about to have a panic attack, and a sense of dread settled over Menthe.

"Jona?" she called. His eyes locked onto hers, and he looked unmistakably panicked. "You're not… afraid of the water, are you?"

He took a half-step back. Menthe frowned and stretched her legs out to reach the bottom and walk back up to him. The idea of an aquatic being afraid of the water was preposterous to her. She'd been told that he had been rescued from a flooded DPIP facility, though… so surely he knew how to hold his breath?

Menthe pressed against Jona's side, scaring him so bad that he snapped his beak just shy of her face. She went stiff-legged and wide-eyed. However, he backed down— Jona looked askance and lowered himself a little as he shuffled slightly away from her.

"Sorry," she said. "I should've asked before I touched you." Menthe relaxed and then looked out over the ocean. "I know you want to come with me, because you wouldn't have come to the water's edge if you didn't," she said, working over the series of events in her head slowly. "You stopped once your feet were wet, so you're not extremely hydrophobic. Is it that… you don't, uh, know how to… swim?" she asked, in much the same way that someone might ask an adult if they knew how to spell their own name.

Jona squeezed his eyes shut and suddenly turned away. He started to walk quickly back towards the main camp of the colony, but Menthe trailed after him. "Wait, wait! I'm sorry, did I, did I say something wrong? I'm sorry!"

He hesitated, looking at her with wet eyes. He looked terrified and sad.

Menthe gave him a hopeful look. "Why don't we just stay here where it's shallow for now? It only goes up to our ankles."

Jona was still for a long time. In fact, he even started to tremble a little, but Menthe waited silently for him to decide what he was doing. After a few more long moments, he nodded slowly and turned to inch back into the surf where it was ankle-deep.

Menthe lowered herself to the ground slowly and laid down, letting the lapping waves crash into her chest. "My sister would do this," she said, smiling at the memory. "She knew how to swim, but she wasn't as strong a swimmer as I am– she's an Earth Tark'ee. She's who I got all my stories from."

Jona peeked over at her at the mention of stories. He flopped down into the water next to her, staring at her with big eyes. It didn't take a mind reader to figure out what he wanted. Menthe laughed at the way he looked at her. "Your face! Do you really want me to tell you a story?"

He nodded rapidly.

"Hmmm," she mused, secretly pleased that her storytelling skills were valued here. "I'll do… have you ever heard the story of the first aquatic? The story goes that after the Wave Father was born, he felt lonely. There was nobody to play with and nobody to play tricks on. To remedy his loneliness, first he made the waves. These firstborn children took his name, and it is from this that we get the tradition of naming hatchlings after their parents. The waves came and went, like children do, but they had their own places to explore and didn't have much interest in staying in the depths with him."

Jona was completely enraptured.

"Next, he made the currents. The currents loved to dance and play with him– they'd help him get across the ocean and visit all sorts of exciting new places, and they provided him with a strong challenge when he'd argue… but they weren't very good conversationalists! After the currents, he made all sorts of other animals and plants– they were fun to talk to, and eat, and play with, but they didn't react much to the tricks he'd play on them, and none of them were brave enough to try and discover their own wisdom. They just wanted to live off of his. Which was fine for a while… but eventually the Wave Father got pretty tired of making sure everyone was okay all the time!"

In fact, Jona was so enraptured that he hadn't noticed a crab was climbing on him. Menthe stopped and giggled, reaching out to grab it off his back. Jona looked at it in surprise. When she held it out to him, he claimed it in one quick snap and dipped his head to thank her.

"The Wave Father was tired," she said, returning to her story with a smile. "And bored! So he made someone who could take care of all his other children for him– the first wave tark'ee. And they were perfect! Smart, friendly, playful, and brave, they could learn from their mistakes and make their own way but still took his wisdom to heart. They loved tricks and games as much as he did and they loved the ocean. He taught them how to do his job taking care of everyone, and then left them in charge!"

Menthe thumped her tail in the surf with a splashing noise. "Or so it's said!"

Jona thumped his tail with her, a small smile creeping onto his features. The two of them fell into a slightly awkward silence, but Menthe didn't want to push it. She just watched him for a long while, the two of them enjoying the sun and the water.

It was a nice day. And Jona, it seemed, was a nice new friend. Menthe only hoped he felt the same way!