Mystic heard something about milk. What was milk? Milk was a strange sounding word. His head spinning with questions. The water...so near. Yet...so far. He needed it. It would help him recover. â€œW...a...t...e...r...â€ He hoarsely got out again. His powers unable to work because he was far too dehydrated. Six months kept even from a river for fear you would escape would do that to you. He felt the cool water touch his lips and began gulping it down. The first sip made his skin less pale. The second sip made his lips soften and go silky. The third sip made his fingers less wrinkled and shriveled. THe fourth sip took away the fever. The fifth sip brought more color to his skin. The sixth sip began to return moisture to his hair. There was no more water after the sixth sip. â€œMore...please.â€ He said. Looking at her pleadingly. He was already looking a lot better than he first had. His hair still dry and brittle. His skin not more than a bit colorful. His eyes foggy a bit still. He needed more water. He moved his hand and his eyes flashed. The water jumped up then fell back down. He flailed as he realized he was with land people. His good arm trying to swim out of the bed now that he had a bit of energy. Looking at her fearfully. â€œAH! DONâ€™T EAT ME!â€ He cried out. Tensing then relaxing as he was too drained to flail or try to swim from the bed. "Are you...a safe...human?" He asked weakly. Closing his eyes. "More water please." He said. These words coming out foreign and slow. Like he was testing the words before saying them.