It's too late.

"Were you worried the lady of the lake might pull me under?"

Sarcasm was better than anything else he had left, which wasn't much after being dropped into a lake by someone claiming to be an archangel. He still wasn't sure he believed. The angel he'd met didn't look anything like the guy wearing Mundane clothes.

Getting back to shore wasn't a problem. It was being on dry ground, getting his footing, and feeling like he was being stabbed through the chest all over again that was a problem. But he did what he always did. He tried to hide it.

"Just what I needed. To soak my head in a lake." He complained, pushing wet hair out of his face.