His sigh evolves into a tired groan when he gets no bite back. Once again, Dan is far too polite. He leans forward, the table creaking a little from the extra weight slumped onto its other corner. The pretense of being busy is given up when he turns his head to watch pencil marks get drawn on paper. Red eyes fix on the pencil tip, like he was tracking a darty little prey creature.

"The mind doesn't feel any fresher than it did yesterday." he admits, the vocal spines deflating. "Or the day before that."

Or the day before, or the day before, going back to his arrival and the realization that he was ripped from something so urgent. Well, okay, he did feel a little calmer since his arrival. He hasn't done any significant property damage to the Pole. But the lurking emotion was always there, no matter how busy he made himself.

"I'm not sure how to fix this."

The admission feels particularly pathetic out loud.