He wanted to ask his companions to climb higher, away from the water, challenging as the effort would be to his already weary muscles. At best, they would ignore him. At worst, his suggestion would inspire more jokes at his expense. He had poor grounds for argument, he knew. Both the Sakuntala and this Hasa person were far more at home than he in the depths of the Viisiiviisii. He was going to have to rely on their expertise to get out of this alive. He knew it, they knew it, and he knew they knew it.
So he kept his mouth shut and plodded on in comparative silence, nervously trying to divide his attention between the slippery, uncertain route ahead and the ominous shadowy sheen of water below. All the while, he wiped constantly at his eyes. Rain battered them despite the protection provided by his electrostatically charged wide-brimmed hat and rain cape.
He was concentrating on some small movement in the water when he stumbled and fell. The aqueous disturbance seemed to intensify as he slipped toward it on the rain-slickened wood. Kicking frantically, his sandaled feet smashed through a clump of punky purple fungi, shattering the alien basidiocarps and sending thousands of spores shooting prematurely into the damp air. An instant later, his feet and legs were in the water. He didn’t fear the water. Unlike the thranx, the Deyzara were excellent swimmers. But like anyone living on Fluva, he very much feared what lurked within the water.
Powerful arms grasped his own as he scrambled desperately to gain a footing on the semisubmerged branch. One set of arms was covered in light gray-and-black fur, while the other was nearly as bare as his own. Working together, human and Sakuntala easily dragged their clumsy companion clear of the water.