Porthos grins as he guides Aramis' legs around his waist, wading just a touch deeper (as deep as the little pond goes, really) and holds onto him tightly as he sinks down so they're covered to the shoulders in blissfully cool water that fights off the heat. "Who knows what sort of gunk is in here, but better than the Seine, and I've taken a dip or two in that," he admits, thinking of those days as a child. "Never without a rope, though. I always feared drowning."