You give Flynn explanations as reassuringly as possible, but he does not enjoy the answers: no cooking, no toilets. The process of letting his skin get pecked at by cleaner fish seems to hit him the hardest.
You finish with the most important information: the limits of the breathing spell. "You must always stay within the city, or be accompanied by merfolk," you tell Flynn. "If you ever leave our protective aura, the ocean will crush you. Or drown you. Or both."
Flynn blanches. "Nobody told me that," he says. "I could have died." He presses his head into his hands and is silent for a while. After some time, he speaks softly and deliberately: "I love Tephra. Very much." He pauses. "But that's kind of scary. Dying if I don't have a chaperone? And nobody told me? I need to know: Am I welcome here?" He looks down.