(The voice is familiar and Zenos squints at the owner of it, noticing that one of the twins is here. The pointy one at that. Names are rarely remembered, let alone used and the tall Garlean wonders just how many of the others were in this place?

Perhaps? The Warrior of Light is around too? Zenos feels the familiar fluttering of hope in his chest at that one; their fight may be done, but things would still be a little interesting if that was the case.)

A consequence of rain, which is usually what happens. At the very least it vouches for the fact I have set foot outside of this place.

(Zenos flicks his hair over his shoulder, ignoring the droplets that arc through the air from the motion as he begins to twist the water from it. Anyone else would have made a show of it.)