He blinks; okay, so they're on the same page now — except for the part where Emet-Selch asks for something completely out of left field. His confusion is evident for a moment, and then recognition lights up in his eyes when he's pretty sure he's caught on.

"Sure," Amos says, retrieving a small stick of graphite that had been stowed away in a pocket and offering it to Emet-Selch. "One of the sailors gave me this, in case I needed to mark something on the ship."

Not like it was limited to just that, though. He'll play along.