Plenty to see is an understatement--Antarcticite cannot decide what to look at first, where to let their eyes linger, or how to respond to the small golden fish that have just bumped into their torso. They blink owlishly back at the confused fish, who flits away from them through the water and back into the lush sea grass.

"What is it you want to see at the reef?" Lifting their eyes towards the deep blue of the open water, they can just barely make out the shape off it further off. They turn to look questioningly at Rutile, though they've mastered their apprehension and squashed it down where it shouldn't cause them any problems; it should be clear enough from their demeanour, however, that wherever Rutile intends to go next, Antarcticite will follow.