There should be a catalog of his smiles; the ones so small yet so subtly different. This was the one from the Scarif vault, of admiration and appreciation.

He left his clothes in a neatly folded pile atop one of the flatter rocks. He slipped into the water, causing a nearby pair of waterfowl to take wing. The water was so clear that the bottom was visible where it was still, it smelled clean, and nothing came out of hiding to try and bite him. (Don't tell Jyn, but though he'd been pretty confident it was safe, he'd gone in first to triple check.) Emerging up to his chest, he swam-walked back to Jyn and unnecessarily offered his hand.