Okay, it's that session of shaking that gets Tidus to do more than mimic a dying swan. He puts a hand on Inigo's shoulder, grabbing it, weak as the movement is. A groan following as he leans his head against that same shoulder.

"Okkaaay, fiiine, but stop shaking meee. M'mouth still feels like cinders..."

Ughhh. Bro. Think about a bro. Let him be a wallowing mess over nothing more than nearly choking on animal fat and spices. But he does sigh, a loud dramatic one, and offers:

"I want something cold."

There. Inigo, you have one job. Give your pal something cold.