Her sharp response stopped his hands (though he didn't understand why she'd felt the need to shout like that), and he paused with his compression shirt half-hiked up his back. He breathed out very slowly to conceal his sigh of relief: he really hadn't wanted to go in that water, knowing how bitterly cold it would be after all the world's many winter months.

Still, he took his time pulling his shirt back down and grabbing his jacket, just in case she changed her mind about having the stupid pine cone retrieved.

If she did, he would do it.

... Maybe.

"You sure? I mean, your special pine cone..."

Despite his protest, he headed back to the edge of the blanket. There he waited dutifully for a final confirmation that the pine cone could be left in its watery grave before he would sit and join her in unpacking their meal.