A white robe drops over Ritsuka's skinny frame - including his head. But, quickly enough, a gentle hand nudges the fabric back and takes the opportunity to brush through Ritsuka's dark, wet hair as it does.

Soubi crouches in the sand, also in a white robe, which is probably for the best. It's loosely tied and there is no hiding the scars on his throat - he lost his bandage somewhere and has not been able to get his hands on another. His glasses seem to be missing as well. But the nightmare of arrival fades quickly when faced with something far, far more important than any hardship could be.

Ritsuka is cold, and wet, and he looks so very small there curled around himself and shivering. Everything else can wait.

"Where do you think it is?"