Eight have entered the waters...
“Busy relaxin’? Bit ‘f an oxymoron, I’d say,” the shark mused with another boisterous chuckle. He ceased his circles, repositioning himself between the humans and the shore. Just in case.
“Well, I don’t tend to travel near the coast too much. But I ain’t busy today. So I s’ppose ye’re just ‘bout right, lil’ morsel,” Bruce admitted with a small shrug, letting the habitual food-related nickname slip from his mouth without a second thought.
“I prefer ‘axiom’,” Newt grumbled back, finding the presence of the shark less frightening, enduring even, the more they talked. The ‘morsel’ bit got to him, however. He straightened himself in the waters and face the shark.
“Newt. Or Genius Mastermind if you wanna get technical,” he added, only briefly wincing at the nickname. “How do you even know what an oxymoron is? Are there dictionaries down there somewhere?”
