I'm afraid we're in the wrong company to do what I'm able to. ( But he sounds altogether content with himself, accepting of his own limitations. Every prison has the possibility of becoming a fortress, when you wait long enough.

They need to understand their circumstances, to bide their time. Limbs still uncoordinated, head weighted as if a stone, he takes another swig of the waterskin. )

What are you? ( Before the lie: ) Your palms are too delicate, you've never worked the land. ( There is a distinct and damning deficit of blisters, of bruises to her. At best, she's a farmer's well earned prized, the kindness of a generous master. If she is a slave, she's mispurposed and new. )