"I was too busy. Plus the fish pond wasn't exactly suited for it. I did go to the river in the summer some days, but I usually went alone." See: always. A good portion of his time at the monastery had been somewhat solitary until he really started to get attached to his students. Now he can hardly stand to be apart from them. The year after the war had been a special kind of new, horrible torture. Surrounded by people, and yet feeling alone without his people. Left to sort through the mental wreck he was. No Jeralt, very few of his friends close at hand, and countless new responsibilities and expectations to keep him constantly moving. The business was probably the saving grace that kept him out of his own head enough to not have a breakdown.

He hits the water with a splash, surfacing seconds later, his hair hanging down over his eyes. He looks... weird. Like seeing a very fluffy cat get wet.

"Oh- the temperature is perfect. You must try this." He says, scraping wet bangs out of his eyes.