Recluse's head whipped around to focus on the thing that touched him, glowing red eyes picking out the thing in the water. Blast. He remembered these things from weeks ago, when one of them had gone after Riddick. He kept swimming, not slowing down. He was damn well not going to fight these things in their own element, if he had to at all.

"If they start singing, don't listen," he warned Agatha. "And if I stop, get me moving again any way that you can." Drowning was not high on his list of things to do this evening.