Dennet wouldn't be guessing wrong on either point. Violence and mental stability being as they are.

He starts to walk forward, sloshing through the water. He ain't going to wait no more and he explains the why of it low tones, "All likelihood up and being, we are going to die, brother." So optimistic is he.

He turns to Dennet, the yellow sclera and indigo-grey iris glowing in the dark. His eyes are wide. "BUT DROWNING BE A THING I AIN'T WANT TO DO. Up to you motherfucker. WHERE ALL YOU WANT AS TO PLACE BETS?"