Pamela
He nodded, mentally rolling his options around in his mind. He could, very well, just ditch and run. He'd probably get some distance *Before* Slavers found him again. Still he did need to eat and rest before deciding what to do. Run. Hide. ...Go back and help the other Oriates. 

He followed without speaking, following down the street not as if he'd just escaped but like he was following a new master of sorts. It was both subconscious and to avoid any looks from anyone recognizing his state of being.
Johnny
*Enu entered an inn and sat Amos at a table.* "Stay here ill get us some rooms and some food" *He walked over to the counter and began to speak with the bartender. After about 30 minutes he came back with two plates full of meat, bread and cheese, along with glass if water.* "Here eat up, but not too fast."
Pamela
And now he felt like a child. Honestly. He closed his eyes and tried to *Ignore* The continual feeling of nausea and anxiety, but found himself cycling right back around to his usual behaviors. If a coping technique isn't broken, might as well not fix it. 

He opened his eyes when he heard the clink of the plate on the table, looking at it. There wasn't any urge to eat but he dutifully picked up some bread and began eating. "So, are you going to cut me loose after this or keep me around to clean your home?" He asked with faux seriousness.