Altair laughed like his declaration were a jest, bobbing his head up and down. It was a strange sight, but Snow took it to be a sign of affirmation. "I will do what I need to do. The only thing I ask of you is to<i>listen."</i><br/><br/>Snow had been thinking about what his plans would be for the man while he was unconscious. He hadn't expected Altair at all — who would? One didn't prepare to find a man in the ocean, not unless they were a floating corpse. Now there was an extra passenger on their ship. If Altair had been anyone else, perhaps it would've been simpler. A sailor he could turn out to the land, to fend as a sailor would. A woman, he might send to a holy home, where she might be protected under dragon's radiance. A noble, either man or woman, he would protect himself, in his own halls. But Altair was a foreign slave. Ignorant to Weiss and all of its parts. Turning him out would be the same as placing a bundled child onto a forest boulder and leaving them be. Only death would be to come.<br/><br/>The only solution he could conjure up was to take Altair with him, at least for the time being. The slave had said that, if his master lived, that perhaps he would like his slave returned. But Snow spurned the idea of returning Altair; It was unlikely that there would be anywhere for Altair to return to, either. An encounter with a pirate ship ended in death or capture, and seeing as Altair was separated from his master he doubt that the man was still alive. Maybe he would leave Altair at Igna's End in the care of the steward, to become a servant of the household. Or perhaps he would deliver him to the castle, to serve in the King's castle along with the dozens of other servants.<br/><br/>Snow was thanked for the water, and Altair set the jug down next to him in favor of resting. "“<i>Whackeahitai</i>." Snow mimed, repeating the word once more so that he could remember it. Snow presumed that he had butchered the pronunciation of the word in its entirety, but at least he would remember the sound of it, and what it meant. "You're welcome." The slave shut his eyes. Soon the tension that had been instilled in his limbs and body was released, and the tempo of his breathing slowed.<br/><br/>"... Your plans for him, my lord?" Diens asked. "The last that I asked, you told me that you did not know."<br/><br/>"I still don't know, Diens. Though, I believe that perhaps it would be for the best if he stayed with us," Snow declared. "What of his words? Do you believe him?"<br/><br/>"If you wish. As for what I think of this man... I distrust him. I don't believe he has lied to us in regards to his origins. Of what I have seen of Dusanians in my life longer than yours, he bears the visage of one. It would explain why he came to be in the sea. A merchant ship or a slave ship encountering a pirate ship is not unfathomable. Neither was his time on that ship a lie. The grievances of his body speak it plainly. His back is surely flogging. When I observed his body... bruises that mottled his thighs, a testament to his rape," Diens responded. "But there are many unknowns to this man. I would think a pirate would be more seasoned than to toss a mumbling slave overboard. The right men will buy a pretty man for a bag of gold. And yet, they threw him."<br/><br/>"Hmm. Your suspicion is the same as my own. I don't believe a pirate would be so easily cowed by a slave's prayer. Certainly, there is something else. But he will not tell us what. Whatever it was, Altair has sealed his lips. He will not admit it," Snow said. "... Though  I am surprised about the... rape. I've never thought that a man his size could be raped."<br/><br/>"Against a crew of formidable pirates who have sailed the seas for years if not decades, even a giant could be raped. Pirates lust. And to some, the hole that they use doesn't matter. Man or woman, crone or child. What matters to them is the release of their seed," Diens commented.<br/><br/>"... I suppose. But I would rather die taking a pirate's life than suffer that."<br/><br/>"Some do not have your courage."<br/><br/>----<br/>Diens had remained in the cabin to watch the slumbering slave. Snow had gone up to the decks to stand and watch the sun rise. The sun hadn't quite risen yet, so the room was still cloaked in innate darkness. Only a candle nestled in a lantern lit the room, and even then not all details were apparent. He could see Altair's face, but he could not discern the patterns etched into the wood of the room.<br/><br/>Altair stirred for the first time in hours. Immediately he rose from the bed. Diens in turn rose from the chair he was sitting on, which he had moved back from the bed. If he lunged, then Diens was ready to deliver him to the floor. Instead Altair made his way over to the chamber pot sequestered in the corner, using what had to be immense effort. He pissed for a while, emptying his bladder of the urine that must've been in his body for the better part of a day.<br/><br/>It had been with a deal of haste that the slave had gone to the pot, but once the pressing need of his bladder was satiated that haste had disappeared. Altair slid down the wall to the floor, resting. He was shivering to the chilly air of the room, eyeing Diens with a glare of exhaustion and enmity. "You look quite pitiful on the floor, Altair," Diens noted, using the slave's name for the first time. Pacing towards Altair with a calmness, he stopped a foot before, gazing down upon the man. He didn't bear any animosity towards the man — he had yet to harm Snow or anyone else. Until Altair showed otherwise, Diens would treat the man proper. "Might I assist you to bed? You need the warmth."