"Well we're searching for a flower, so I'd hope its not entirely too cold."

Otherwise they're wasting their time. Wrathion moves closer to the edge of the river, crouches down and peers into the depths.

"I suppose one of us is heading in then."

He pushes to his feet with a sigh, frowning along the length of the waterway.

"I'll dry off faster." A begrudging admission. Wrathion doesn't like the idea of being cold and wet, but it seems the easiest way. He unties the sash on his coat, begins unfastening the buttons. "Keep an eye out for anything approaching."