“Yes, I’ve done all of this just because I enjoy being problematic,” Altair snapped, bristling straight away at Diens’ words. Like Altair had brought all of this down upon him and deserved the treatment he was getting now. Anger ebbed and flowed within Altair, stoking embers of resentment. Altair let out a heavy sigh. He was once again feeling irritable and cagey. He wanted to move.<br/><br/>“Fevers and dreams,” Altair said in way of explanation for whatever behavior had been deemed unacceptable enough to get him tied up again. His voice returned to him raspy after either misusing his vocal cords or neglecting them entirely. “I need to stretch my legs. I don’t know what your physician is going to think of that, but I think I’m well enough now. Feeling lucid. Tired of wasting away. Now that my minds found me again I intend to keep it.” Altair brought his wrist towards Diens, making direct eye contact.<br/><br/>“So if you’d be so kind as to perhaps take me for a walk and explain what is going to happen to me here as of now, I would appreciate it.” He was tired of waking up in strange places only to face more change. It wasn’t as if anyone had really been very forthcoming with him and it was another reason for his decline in mood, though he was trying to rein it back in enough to be halfway pleasant. He knew that would be easier once he could stretch and move stiff and aching muscles that were beginning to atrophy.<br/><br/>“I’m as weak as I’ve ever been so don’t give me that worry over my aptitude for violence.” Another sarcastic snort because violence generally went against his very nature and beliefs.<br/><br/>“Do you know where your Lord is?”