[ kaveh squints. he sees it not in kaveh's eyes, but in the set of his neck, in the way he leans forward just so as the gears in his head spin. the eleazar has robbed kaveh of much. the pain in his fingers, the creak of his joints, the shaking of once-steady hands versus the flaky calluses from dehydrated skin. but it has not robbed kaveh of the alacrity of mind and the singular focus of his existence. this much, alhaitham is sure.

alhaitham removes from his pocket the little wooden container of balm that tighnari had put together. the faint scent of jasmine permeates. ]

The same reason that once stopped you from learning another language. [ he puts down the rambutan peels and the handkerchief so that he can twist open its cap. jasmine now flourishes. ] Unless you have suddenly developed an interest in the syntactic topology of Ancient Enkanomiyan? I turn the question back to you: are you so adverse to languages that you cannot bear to try?

[ a parallel conversation, conducted without words: alhaitham holds out his hand for kaveh's. the intention is clear. his unoccupied hand, please. ]