Logue was somewhere up ahead, staring with... delight? at a lava font off to the side of the path. Fleece limped along the path, aways behind, decidedly overheating. Tyrannicus, of course, seemed to be perfectly cool - and Happenstance, the foal he had found, was stowed at a rest point on a higher level, likely perfectly cool right now.

Fleece swore to himself - Logue seemed rather unaffected by the heat, so he didn't want to be the one complaining. Slowly, his hat was removed and tucked away in his satchels. Then his cloak altogether. Then his drape, somehow a separate bit of fashion on it's own - and he faired a bit better.

However, when he caught up and Logue turned to look at him - and paused, a distinct but hard to describe expression on his face.

"... What." Fleece said, faintly wheezing.

"... You uh... feeling a bit... hot there?" Logue said after a moment, Tyrannicus landing on the guide's head rather then Fleece's own. Little traitor.

"... No. ... Maybe... Fine."

"Lets - Let's step off, over here." Logue gestured to an area with bright red grass that probably had some alchemical use, but their coloration made Fleece nervous to touch them all the same. Still, he followed after the other, and when instructed, laid down.

Eventually Fleece peeled his eyes open again, and a bowl was set down in front of him, from Logue's teeth - then, a canteen held over it - uncapped by Tyrannicus, helpfully so.

He peered at the water, and felt a bit of nausea.

"Drink. Slowly now." Logue nudged at his head, and left the bowl there, doing something else off to the side. Damp cloth was soon draped over almost all of Fleece's form, and he tentatively sipped, and drank until the water was gone - and repeated the same when more was offered a while later.

"There are charms and the like you can get to stay cool... Maybe we ought to hunt you one, first thing." Logue said, tone kind and measured, just as it had been all the while. Fleece flinched a bit. He was cooling off a bit now, at least.

"... and in the meantime?" He croaked.

"We'll rotate a cool damp cloth over your neck, and I'll carry your satchels." Logue said, eyes half-lidded. "... No, I'm not out to rob you, either."

"... Alright."