It is mundane. If prompted, Hilda would probably be the first to brush it off as neither personal nor precious; it was just swimming around in a lake with her older brother and his friends after all. That had been done more than once, and those summer days of her childhood blurred together so seamlessly that it's sometimes hard for her to pick apart how old they had been at the time.

But being so far from home, having been granted in a very roundabout way, the space she wanted from her overbearing brother, has resulted in a strange wave of nostalgia in an unexpected place. The sentimentality probably stems from feeling a little untethered too given the current state of her friendships from home - but diving takes precedence over thinking about that.

His statement is met with puffed cheeks and a pout, but she doesn't retaliate, listening instead to Altaïr's How to Dive for Dummies mastercall. When he's done there's a beat of silence before she gives a hesitant nod, stepping up to the edge of the cliff. Apparently her consequences now catching up to her actions.

"Do you really think I'm going to land flat like a pancake and break my neck?"

...Or we're going to stall. That could be an option too.