Diana grasped subconsciously at his own upper arms as he stood there, meekly, just outside the cluster of survivors. They were definitely an odd bunch, but he took no notice, staring out into the horizon through a pair of eyes red from crying. There is nothing but water out there, nothing but water, nothing but- he was shaking, his hands took the brunt of it, they were at best comparable to those of the cervitaur.
He turned finally, shaking his head lightly and blinking once or twice to regain himself. Dai brushed away the tears from his cheeks, but the red tint there remained as evidence. Since their arrival, he hadn't spoken a word, but he'd been listening distractedly... as witches had long since perfected the art of eavesdropping, even to the point of it being unintentional. With no interest in eating seaweed, or, in fact, eating anything at all considering the trauma he'd just endured, he turned his attention to the sand and knelt to pick up a small, smooth stone. The prospect of riches for pebbles didn't quite put away the fact he was soaking wet, but it was a distraction none the less... although he was making a deliberate effort to keep his back to the treeline, all the while, trembling visibly.