Syrlya rolls his eyes, but obliges and starts to jog further down the shore. To his credit, manages to at least not trip even when he sways a little. His attention is held on the water in the lake, trying to decipher the pattern in it.

He slows to a walk, then stops where he reaches a point where some of the grass in the image is a little clearer outside the shadow. And then he leans over, staring at the image more critically. He doesn't reach the end of the green... but he thinks he's figured out what the green is.

That stunned silence holds for a minute, before he covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.