"You're dead," Callisto informs him flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "In the beach. If you want to see, I can show this."

Well. Maybe. It's possible the tide has carried it away by now, she supposes, because she hadn't made any effort to protect or secure it.

"It was viaiothanasía." She repeats the word slowly, because she knows it's a tough one, though he's done decently well with the Greek she's taught him so far. "From the water - you understand?"

She can mime drowning if she needs to.