<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Altair snapped his head to the side, to try to look at Cygnus as he spoke. He made a noise of pure anguish, but what good would it do to argue with him? Saying the captain was wrong would do him no favors. Confirming that he thought the captain was an uneducated barbarian, though he firmly believed he was, would not end his torment. Men laughed. They found this all amusing. Altair wasn't sure if it did any good, finding the right words to use with Cygnus, at least not until the next lash was a fraction easier to bare. <br/>
<br/>
“Four.” He didn't allow himself to believe Cygnus would take it easy on him there after. Rather he expected him to make up for it with the fifth. <br/>
<br/>
“It is my hope..” Altair's voice cracked, but he gathered strength to finish his sentence. Bold enough to speak it in their language, for all the crew to hear, “that my goddess sees fit to punish those who would take pleasure in the suffering of one so faithful.” That was the last ounce of strength he had in that moment, and somewhere between the fifth and seventh strike, based on Cygnus' new count, he'd pissed himself. Yet another humiliation endured at the hands of the ruthless captain, but Altair wasn't in control of his body. He was struggling to count, going into shock perhaps. He'd already withstood a battering earlier, and his body was failing him. He wasn't so strong as some, he knew, who'd probably withstood worse at the hands of these pirates. He could admit his weakness, and beg for it to be over. <br/>
<br/>
“Eight,” he managed, though his voice was barely audible, his vision starting to blur. He was hoarse from screaming, leaning entirely on the bonds to hold himself upright. His hands had started to tingle, turning purple from the lack of circulation, but that was only a mild irritation compared to the fire he felt licking up his back with each lash.</span></span>