( not for the first time, he's grateful to no longer be in the long drapings of his judge's robes. the thought of the heavy swathes of fabric dragging behind him as he crawls, jumps, and slides his way has him frowning deeper. even so: )

Is not the purpose of this resort to push us to 'dirty' ourselves, in one way or another?

( it's a rhetorical question; he's already rolling up his sleeves, stepping towards the makeshift ladder. don't worry, he's a big boy. he can handle a bit of (literal) filth, for all that he might pout prettily over it. )

You need not worry. I will be just fine.

( and with that out of the way, he begins to climb, wobbly and uneven. though he has occasionally watched the childen play in the strets of fontaine, his forays into mindless recreation and physical are limited, and the slight give to the foam interrupts his balance just enough that progress up the incline is far slower than it should be.

hopefully it's at least decent entertainment for kizuna to watch his companion tip left and then right as they clamber their way upwards. )