He restrains himself from mischief, mincing in after her with a screwed-up and unhappy face as soon as his feet touch the water: y'all are swimming in this? --and yet.

If he were a braver soul he might just launch forward and get wet all at once, but instead he comes in with another face (this time accompanied by an aggravated whine) as his midsection hits the water line.

He takes far too long to arrive at the sandbar, and has somehow managed to do so with his hair still dry and pristine; all he's missing is a lit cigarette in his mouth, but he left those on land.