Azra wakes up a few days later, and lays in his bed, arms crossed behind his head. It was moments like this that he'd always loved. Early mornings, and a long with that, early morning reading. Except he couldn't read anymore. His time, once filled with banter, Jones, sparring, and stealing, is now usually just filled with idleness.
And Azra hates idleness.
It drove him insane, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to climb out of bed, pull his pants and boots on, and go up and make sure everything was in its rights. He didn't even need to do that, the ship did it on its own anyways.