The reaction of this young man was nothing like what Théadan expected, more than that, it was absolutely bizarre to him. He was laughing once Théadan named Wyndagar, and then spoke as though there had been more to their conversation than Théadan was aware of. "All this time?" He questioned, not that the young man seemed to hear him over his own realisations. They had only just met, what was he talking about? He was speaking as though they were old friends meeting for the first time in a year, thinking Wyndagar was a human friend of his. None of this was making any sense to Théadan whatsoever, so it came as a relief that he said he would explain. The relief was short lived though as the young man was suddenly hopping down from the window deciding he needed to go back to his chambers first.<br/><br/>"Hey wait!" Théadan called out, hurrying over to the window where he had been watching him. He had no idea how long he might be in this cell, or what the King had planned for him, surely he could get some sort of answer here and now. He heard the splashes of footsteps from the otherside, and then the young mans calling to the guards. Théadan rushed over to the slit in the door to try and get his attention before he slipped away again, spotting just a flash of movement towards the stairs he had come down from. "You didn't answer my--and he's gone." He let out an exhausted sigh, leaning up against the door. This day was going to be a tiring one, he was already sure of it, even if he was likely to spend the rest of it trapped inside of this cell.<br/><br/>There really wasn't anything to do but wait and contemplate just what that young man had been talking about. He seemed to already to know Wyndagar, know him. The way he had phrased it, that couldn't have been a mistake, so what did he mean by fighting his sister for his attention. Hopefully he would return before anyone else did, and he'd be able to get some answers from him this time. The wait felt long to Théadan, occasionally he would hear the sounds of his jailors speaking in Khluri outside the door. But there was little else to do in this cell but wait and think. His thoughts inevitably turned towards Navia, hoping she was making progress in convincing her cousin to release him, he knew she was likely going to blame herself too after believing they would so readily welcome them. When next they were in each others arms, he'd assure her he already knew of the risk, and they would come out the otherside together as they always did.<br/><br/>Eventually the young man returned, his face popping back up in the window, excitedly calling out to him to get his attention, and dangling some cloth containing some food inside. "<i>Dhanyu.</i>" Théadan said, thankful he would get to eat something while stuck in this cell. He took the cloth and looked inside to find a pair of pies inside, he took a bite out of one to find they were some tasty meat pies. He'd have to look after the other one for later, and make sure it didn't get wet. A moment later his arm was reaching between the bars and holding out a book for him, explaining it was how he knew some Mes'Mo'Tanian, as well as Wyndagar. His brow raised curiously, wondering why Wyndagar would be in a book, when the saw some the faded yellows of the leather cover. The young man confirmed it at the same time he realised it. The book was one of his journals, and that just opened up a whole new avenue of questions.<br/><br/>"What?" He muttered, trying to understand. How did one of his journals end up in Khlurios, and in the hands of this young man of all people. He said he didn't know why the book had been sent to him, but someone apparently knew of him, and sent it his way. Who in Mes'Mo'Tan would do that? Why was his journals being sent to Khlurios in advance, was this some plot by his brother?  Théadan was just stuck looking at his journal, at his own name written on the inside in his own hand. "Who are you?" Théadan finally asked, hoping to get some sort of answer that would finally make some sense. "Why would someone from Mes'Mo'Tan be sending you my old journals?" He said he didn't know, but surely he knew something. "Did whoever send you these send a message with them? A note or anything? Did they give a name,or initials?"