He takes a step around Six so he can watch the words a little closer. He struggles with alphabets anyway, having not learned to write until nearly high school, but this one seems particularly difficult. He ends up leaning closer and squinting at it, so he's right there when he grits his teeth and tenses up again.

"In Common it's... translated. As 'red leaves gyre on the grey lake'. Gyre is fine," he says, his voice sharp and clipped as he tries to make Six accept this word as good enough.