"It'll come back to me." There's a laugh, a helpless breathy little chuckle and a bemused head shake because even that was infinitely more verbose than Glitch could hope to manage at the moment. Then he's caught between watching and feeling, observing and experiencing, the scientist's detachment and the man's fascination with having his fingers kissed.

New and different and nice. But no giving in to the pull, there's world enough and time for all that.

"All right then," he says. "But to do that..." He sighs and reluctantly relinquishes hold of one hand. "I've got to do that. Now, if I relax--"

The arm floated up to the waters surface. "It's like when you were teaching me snake arms, remember? Light as a feather. We're made of two-thirds water, naturally we want to float."