There was another muttered earnest thank you as he kept eating, forcing himself to take each and every bite painfully slow. Thankfully now, he could at least get enough food down to make a difference and was no longer picking apart bits that sparrows would call meager. Still, it didn't take long for him to pause. He was hunched over his plate still, but a pained look had coiled into his features. The food was good and rich, and his stomach was working its best but was now leaving him with a painful squeeze that he knew meant he had to stop, at least for now.<br/><br/>He swallowed hard, but didn't reach for the mead. Even now, he wouldn't let himself touch it. He couldn't. Just in case.<br/><br/>For the first time since he'd started, Dane Volen raised his head without being burdened by weight. His amber eyes appraised his savior again, this time with a different sort of caution. He hadn't answered Wyl, but he had realized the other knew who he was. For him, that was just as dangerous as a brandished dagger. Where the other might have thought he was doing some good before by helping a nameless beggar, there would now be the realization that he was both a very wanted many with an extremely high (if not legendary) bounty.<br/><br/>"It's wrapped around my chest. To keep it quiet." He'd moved discussion back to the chain, avoiding the largest subject on hand. "There's another bit of metal around my chest. Where the muzzle was originally attached. The shorter lead there wasn't enchanted." He'd broken it off quite easily. "The back is, but only because the loop forged into it. I can't reach it on my own." He gave a small cough, trying to clear that dry throat.<br/><br/>He was another set of silence before he added, "It might be worth something to someone. The pieces." He was sure it would be worth quite a bit to the right someone. Some lead on where he'd gone. Volen knew he had no way of repaying Wyl for his kindness. Selling the remains and the tip he could sell with it would surely be worth a good bit if he knew the right person to take it to. Given the situation that had led both of them to meet, he imagined the man did. "Silver in it is worth a bit at least if someone wants to melt it."<br/><br/>Despite being free, there was something that was still so wilted about the war hero that went past the fatigue. His gaze seemed to fall short again, going to the ground and the plate. He was more than a starved, exhausted man. He was a broken one.