Tadesse is no longer especially tracking his surroundings. Hasn't been for a while. The water no longer even feels cold, and Ekunde hasn't bothered to say anything in a long time, possibly because there isn't really room for both of them to cling to consciousness, right now.
He's too weak to do any magic, now, which means it's already over. They're hundreds if not thousands of miles from shore, clinging to wreckage. It's over and he's going to die and start over, again, repeating the same loop over and over and right now it feels so pointless and he's - not, actually, sure why he hasn't already let go so he can get on with it.
Maybe because, even in the darkest moments, on a reflexive level he still doesn't want to die. Even though he's so tired.
...eventually, despite his best efforts, his arms no longer have the strength to grip, and the next wave shakes him loose, and there must still be a surface, somewhere, but it's a moonless night and he can no longer distinguish up from down.
And even then, he tries to swim, almost involuntarily, and he finds air half by accident, and from there, nothing exists except the endless timeless struggle for the breath after that, and a mantra only half in words, never to die never to give up never to walk away not until it's done not until -
- until -
When the change happens, he's no longer processing his sensory input enough to even notice confusion.
Though he does notice, vaguely, distantly, that even the folded-up silent presence of Ekunde is gone, and he's alone.