It's pleasant down here and a promise of one more moment before he drifts up is followed by another promise. Despite the burn in his lungs, he has...two minutes left? Plenty of time to drift.

Except there's a very real hand that grabs him and for a moment his mind tells him it is Caleb, using that smile where he's trying to pretend he's not worried and failing. But it's not Caleb, it's Wolfe's voice that shocks through him, his pretty face twisted into fear and concern that's plain as day to the cleric even as he blinks back salt, both cold and warm. "Wolfe? Love, what-?"

He wraps an arm around Hawke, under his arms, and treads water with practiced ease. They'll need to head into shallower water, but in a moment. Not until he understands where his 'savior' even came from. "I...where were you? I didn't see you." He hadn't looked, just made sure it wasn't the stretch of beach visible to Kyle's house.

He shakes his head and follows up quickly enough. "I dropped. I'm fine. Landed hard, but I was high up." It was expected.