Antarcticite looks at the white solution coating the bristles of the brush, and ends up extending an arm out towards Padparadscha without thinking. So often in their past, the responsibility for seeing to this part of the process belonged to Adamant, and occasionally Rutile if they woke in the dead of winter to continue their work. It does not occur to them to take the brush from Padparadscha instead--at least, not yet.

"...Though I don't think venturing out into unknown seas is something any of us would consider a good idea anyway."

"We ventured into that city in the shunt," they point out quietly, frowning a little as they say so. Their sense of duty and loyalty to the senior gems had compelled them to follow after Padparadscha and Rutile, overriding any instinct that might ward them off from behaving so recklessly. They peer up at Padparadscha again, curious. "Does that happen here often? Breaches from other worlds just--appearing out of nowhere like that."