<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Altair hung onto the words Cygnus offered to the man he'd be sold to, wondering if he was just trying to scare him. Truly, Altair would have walked willingly to this man if given choice now, no matter the picture he painted. Cygnus had shown him true cruelty, and Altair likely would have willingly went with literally anyone to get away from the Captain. The unknown didn't worry Altair nearly so much as it did when he reflected on his current situation. Of course, if Cygnus was feeling particularly spiteful, he would sell him to someone he knew was just like him. That thought made Altair that much more uneasy.<br/>
<br/>
Cygnus came around him, and Altair remained still. There would be no point to try to get away, no matter how ominous the man was. When the cloth came around his throat to pull tight, threatening, Altair tilted his head up, back slightly to suggest obedience, and that he wasn't going to fight. He was weak, and panic might have seized him before, if he had his full wits about him, at the thought of being strangled. Yet he succumbed to that weakness for a moment, his entire body in pain, and thought that it just might bring him some relief if he were to be freed from his this vessel, into the warm and comforting arms of his goddess.<br/>
<br/>
“More lashes, and it'll kill me. I think you know that, and then you'd have nothing to offer your benefactor. No coin to gain on my behalf, even if you decide to sell me to someone else, to be spiteful.”<br/>
<br/>
The rational side of him didn't think Cygnus would kill him. Still, he didn't intend to further ignite the man, and he called upon the part of himself that could be used to appease someone when he put his mind to it. He touched Cygnus' wrist, finger gentle, asking him to bring his hands closer, rather than trying to push him away, to alleviate the tension of he cloth after it had tightened. He didn't allow himself to panic, instead toyed with the idea of letting it all go. How was he supposed to beg if he couldn't breath? It was more of the same scenarios that set Altair up to fail. Altair could not be a good slave because Cygnus was not a good master. Altair's chest constricted, trying to pull air into his lungs to no avail. Cygnus pressed hard enough that the cloth would bruise his delicate and pale flesh, but still, Altair resisted the urge to struggle. To let panic have him. Instead, he closed his eyes and he prayed.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly, the ship lurched, sending them both off balance and Altair off the bench into the floor beneath, but the cloth had loosened from his throat, and he could breath. He sucked air into his body sharply, a reflex, and then a fit of coughing seized him. He didn't think what might have been happening to cause the ship to shift so angrily. His world was smaller than that now, and he could only focus on his personal dance with death.<br/>
<br/>
Outside, the clouds had gathered and darkened, and the waves had risen, churning threateningly. It had been sudden, the wind quiet for most of the day, but now it was screaming, mimicking Altair's cries from earlier. His blood had scarcely been cleaned up when it had begun, and crew rushing to get things in proper order. Perhaps it was coincidence, or maybe Altair's goddess had answered him. Or maybe even their own sea god had decided he didn't like this game the Captain was playing. Maybe that crew member was just a little spooked, distracted over Altair marking him, enough to cause an error in judgement. Whatever the reasoning behind it, he'd lost his life, claimed by the sea and nothing would shake Altair's belief that he'd been taken as repentance. The crew would talk, and rumors would spread. No matter Cygnus' desire to hide him away, damage had been done and superstitious men would have little more to do at night than to wonder if they'd angered their own gods, and to whisper amongst themselves. Altair could only hope this would solidify Cygnus' desire to get him of the ship.</span></span>