Look on the bright side, Strange: at least he let you keep your towel on. What else are friends for? Gratifyingly for the magician, perhaps, Lambert yelps as he's splashed right on the front with water, but he recovers quickly enough and hops right in after, though not without a shout.

"Fuck, that's cold!" Even as he complains he's ducking his head and upper body so he can vigorously sluice sweat off his entire body, his tail churning in the water. Dripping water off his scales and horns, he starts to wade towards the shallow end.

A couple of fluffy-looking robes have been hung up for them, and a sign directs them to deposit used towels in a bucket. After squinting at it for a second, Lambert shrugs and strips the towel off, leaving him bare for a few eyesearing seconds before he puts on the robe to replace it.