<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family:Open Sans">Altair wasn't sure if Cygnus was pleased with him or not. The slave had stiffened uneasily when Cygnus touched him. Altair was coming to expect nothing good from the Captain and his hands. He'd let him prattle on as he wrote, and for Altair it made everything more vivid to him to link the writing to his own words, and images stamped into his mind. There were other things he'd written about, such as their architecture and how everything was constructed to catch the wind. It was the only way that they could stay cool and comfortable. Travelers often complained of it's heat, but Altair had been raised there, and he missed it. Even more so with the threat of perpetual cold looming in the air. He wasn't sure Cygnus was a man who could be pleased at all, and he was no longer so eager to hear praise from someones mouth as he had been in his youth.<br/>
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He was done for now, apparently, Cygnus signaling this by taking the quill and ink away. He'd written in neat, elegant scrawl, so Cygnus couldn't punish him over being sloppy. It had been something to focus on, and without it the pain he was in became more apparent. He wasn't sure he was ever going to find himself free of aches serving a man like Cygnus, but he was doing his best to be useful.<br/>
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Altair watched Cygnus as he read what he'd put inside that book. Nothing had been a lie. He was much too fond of his culture to write any falsehoods. Just like his faith, his pride in Dusan was not something easily shook. They were such a distance now, though he didn't know exactly how far, that he knew he might not ever see his homeland again.<br/>
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“I know some things of Ellania as well. Just not as much since I was only there for a few passing years,” Altair told him, thinking he could write more in the book later if Cygnus would allow him the time again.<br/>
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Altair, with nothing more to do, crossed his arms over the table and laid his head down. He was still uncomfortable, and he'd not slept well. Likely no one had, and Altair wondered when the Captain himself might sleep. It seemed as if he was perpetually doing something, and he was hardly lazy. If not for his cruel nature Altair might have marveled at how he captained his ship. Now, there was only room in him for bitterness and hatred towards the man, especially for what he'd done to him. He was still angry, but it was easier to try to be compliant, at least somewhat, than it would be to take another beating, or another lashing. In some instances Altair wouldn't be swayed. He would pray, no matter if Cygnus directly forbid him. Part of his error was not learning Cygnus fast enough, and his lack of caution. It was not a mistake he would make twice.</span></span>