The centaur continues peering myopically into the doorway, seeing multiple figures there but hearing all the right words and tones of voice- and one of them was pitch black and *sounded* like the person she'd been dragged aboard with, so... probably that meant they were on the up and up. They could live!<span style="font-style: italic">For now.</span>"I tried to kick free of a shackle when I heard a commotion in the other cell," she says. "The metal yielded less than the wood. I don't think it is broken, but it rubbed a lot of the hide off there and I felt something pop in a knee. It doesn't want to hold weight," she says- not in a querulous tone, but in the matter-of-fact way a soldier would report a wound. When Delia continues to offer, she responds, "If you're offering a way out of here, I'll take it. These Imperial bastards need to be-" she seems to catch herself, and then simply continues, "Yes, I would like to go free. Or really if I could even turn around- this cell is too narrow to do that."<br/><br/>As Xarius squeezes in, he quickly sees that she's telling the truth; there's maybe two feet of space free for him between her flank and the wall. Inside the cell, the horsey smell hangs thick and heavy- not an unpleasant scent for someone who'd been around stables as much as he had, but a very definite presence nonetheless. As he enters, brushing the horse's side, she tenses and then relaxes in a single convulsive movement; despite the amount of time she's had to have been in captivity, she certainly has enough softness around her horizontal torso that she doesn't feel remotely as though she were starved. Under the fat layer, though, he can feel the muscles like coiled springs, especially around her rear hip- the muscles that had done their best to push a hoof through several inches of solid wood. "Xarius." The centaur repeats. "Call me Chira-" she pronounces it like KEE-ra- "and with my herd mostly dead, it's the only name I have. Is your family well?" She asks, a little anxiously.<br/><br/>Outside the cell, the drow draws a short sharp breath, muttering, "Ah. Right." He rests against the wall, looking at the other doors, and in a quiet aside to Delia says, "Well, at least we know she'll fight the Imperials like death on four legs, miss big bad demon." Letting his ears twitch near the top, he adds, "Do you have a plan, or is it just 'put the centaur in front, have her stampede towards the other side of the ship, and kill anyone that survives being trampled?' Because that might work."<br/><br/>As Xarius kneels down, he can see that the bolts holding her rear shackles in are torn halfway from the wall themselves; solid metal bolts driven almost all the way through the hull of the ship. At least her description of the injuries seem pretty comprehensive; her hoof and ankle look worse than they are as a bloody mess, but by the way the leg's hanging she's probably torn something in there. It's easy enough to remove the shackles, though. Even as he does, he can hear her stomach rumbling just over his head. As if that hadn't happened, the centaur says, "Not as strong as it once was... but I always preferred fighting with my front to the enemy, not the rear. Um. Could you tell me when you get out from between my legs, so I don't accidentally step on you...?"