“I did not mean to suggest that you enjoyed being problematic. Rather, you are problematic.” Diens put it flatly. The Dusanian growled at him with the ferocity of a cornered wolf, but in his fettered state he appeared to be no more intimidating than a pup. Mattered hair and sunken cheeks from scarring ordeals left Altair with a pitiable visage. But even with his dishevelled manner Altair could still provoke a bit of fear.  “You should find it as no surprise that you made a corvus bind you like a hog. However wounded you might be, your height and appearance mark you as a foreigner and outsider. Few corvuses would consider leaving your actions toward them to fate. Even if you were no outsider, your height and size gives you the potential to be difficult while feverish.” Once in a blue moon, he heard tales of men breathing their last at the hands of feverish but powerful lunatics.<br/><br/>A misplaced stick could be driven into an eye followed by a brain, if the person behind the stick had the will to place it.<br/><br/>Diens concurred with Altair’s words. “I doubt that Hillard would object now that you have regained consciousness, and I do not believe that you are wrong in saying that you need to stretch your legs,”  said Diens. “Too much rest can lead to the petrification of muscle and sinew. I presume that you would not desire that.” He stroked his fingers across the ropes crossed around Altair’s wrist. With his nails he began to unravel the rope, gently so as to not aggravate the Dusanian’s skin. Once one limb was done he switched to another, until Altair was free. The ropes he coiled neatly and placed away, in the corner of the room where rope had accumulated.<br/><br/>“I assume that Hillard has treated the various wounds present upon your person. Your grievous back injury, your cheek… your bottom. Such treatments can leave one light and trembly. It would be unfortunate if you collapsed and smashed your head into a well-placed stone,” said Diens. “I am all but unwilling to indulge in your request, so long as your own legs can bear thy weight. But I also must warn you that the outside of this room may not be quite as warm, nor will you be free of curious spectators. This room is a den that suffices for the conversation that you crave.”<br/><br/>“There is no use for you to know where Lord Siennought is. At the moment, he is preoccupied and unable to share in your company,” Diens said. Snow was preparing for the summer solstice, where he would fulfill his duty as Lord of House Siennought.