"Mayhaps a bar room brawl or two? Entertaining, those." His body jerked forward as the strange contraption started its engine, closing the doors - more like trapping - and tucking the patients neatly in. The start of the ride was quite strumbling in its movement, lacking the fluidity of an airship's lift, or even the gait of an armored chocobo.

The judge supposed this town wouldn't have boiled chocobo stew, would they...? That was always a favorite dish during the cooler months. But no gil had been divided between the patients that Noah could see. So how was one to pay for any drink or food they might want?

Even so, he was quite the determined Hound. And it had been several years without a peace tranquil enough to drink with companions. "Care to join me, should they serve ale?" he ventured, looking to the other blond. They weren't the most companionable couple, but it was hard to find one in their elder years among the other prisoners.