It's a good thing he woke up weak, unable to hurt anyone until he had his wits about him. Since then, he's been quiet and cooperative, if not always cheerful about it; sometimes, sitting in his cell, his expression has been openly resentful, though more often tired or mildly exasperated. He keeps those looks off of his face while he's being questioned, always stressing that he means no harm, that he is as surprised as anyone else at his presence among them.

At least some power rests with this woman: he sees, already, the way people defer to her. The lives of everyone who has been pulled from an egg may rest in her hands.

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know." He pauses, frowns. "But I don't know if it will help you, my lady. I can tell you where I came from, where I've been. I will sound like a fool, but it's the truth."