The woman on the floor of the cell across from him knew nothing of these events. She barely had the will to straighten her back and sit up. It wasn't like she was going anywhere. The cell had been her place of residence for a week or so. She heard that she would have to remain there for perhaps a month, maybe more. She didn't have time to sit around in a jail; she had to make money to send to her children, make money to feed herself, find that garbage sister of hers. Stupid. It was supposed to have been a simple body guarding job. So much for that rubbish. Thank the creator that it hadn't been a worse punishment; lying on the bottom of a cell in a squalid chamber was one thing, but it could have been much worse. At least she was alone in her cell, at least it wasn't a hanging scheduled. Especially a hanging in Arca; seeing her ex-lover's smirking face just before she died would be a crush of her honour. The scrap she had left, of course.
The sobs of someone caused her to sit up quietly, slowly, and look around. That wasn't something she heard before in this prison, crying. Languidly she ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to keep herself from looking like a wild-woman and moved herself forward to peer through the bars at her companion. Was he an elf? Judging by the ears, she would say so, but it didn't really matter. It was obvious that he was either unwilling to use magic or unable to; otherwise they would have shackled them as they did to her. Around the neck and the wrists, iron pounded as smooth as possible to avoid potentially fatal abrasions, straight from Connlaoth.
The kid looked so terribly pitiful. With a frown, she thought about what she could possibly do to get him to stop making those little sobs. She attempted to make it less obvious that she was studying him and looked around the cell for something to give him, or something to say, or...well, whatever may happen. Chamber pot in the corner? No good ideas there. Dirty stones? Not helpful. Shackles? No. Was that a...bone in the corner?- ah, no, just a piece of straw. That would have been just a bit wrong. Thoughtfully she reached into her pockets. They had let her keep everything that wasn't a weapon, fortunately. Rather, they decided not to go through the trouble of trying to loot the very angry and distressed woman and just take what was necessary.
A-ha! There was something of use there. Hopefully useful at least. She extracted an item from her pocket, which ended up being a small slice of fruit bread wrapped neatly in a cloth; she had gotten it not so long ago from an agent of the person she had been protecting who was 'truly sorry for her consequences from the job' and wanted to 'express his apology' with a piece of bread. Okay. At this point, all she saw in the loaf was the man's face and didn't want anything to do with it. Besides, wasn't everyone hungry that entered a jail? That was usually why they were in there, after all.
The woman, Amber, cleared her throat quietly and said in a gruff tone that was an attempt to be friendly, "Hey...you, there; are you hungry? I've got some bread left over, here." She wiggled her arm through the bars and held it out towards the 'kid''s cell, presenting the 'gift' to him. Well, at least it would distract him from being a mess.