Next to the Imperial, Jim is bent over with his hands on his own thighs, breathing heavily. The cloth around his face sticks to him at every in hale before puffing back out with his exhales. "Yeah--yeah. I mean if you're needing to stop then we should..." Give him a second to catch his breath again, "We should definitely stop for the night."

What Jim means is that he needs the rest too. Admitting such things isn't very easy for him even on his own ship. Out here where Jim's all too aware of how little of a help he is the man's determined not to be a burden to anyone.

Thankfully it's a downhill walk from here. Not even the alien beauty of this place can slow Jim's steps for long when he's got to keep up with Stratos. (The promise of a warm meal and a place to sleep drives him forward too). Security seems a bit more lax than Jim's seen around other towns but perhaps with the volcano disrupting much of the land people are needed for more important work.

Not even Jim's aching feet nor grumbling stomach will keep him from admiring the architecture at least a little bit. With the sky stained with color these strange designs feel just familiar enough form Earth history books to draw his eye even if he knows this place is nothing at all like his home world. His fatigue works somewhat in the captain's favor as it keeps him from turning on the spot to gape at every new sight as they round a corner.

"Is Cyrodillic known here? If not I'm...not going to be much use seeing to supplies or our needs."