Celestia frowned as they passed his cell only to discover it empty. They found him out front, sitting on the stairs and talking to the two door sentries. Cigarette in mouth, he kept flicking the silver lighter, attempting to spark a flame. And after ensuring neither of the guards ‘had a light’ he stood, reaching up to one of the torches mounted along the side of the wall. He pulled himself up with his arms sticking his face by the dancing tongue of flame, and puffing on the cigarette expectantly. 