Last night had certainly been more productive than previous nights. True, they hadn't received any answers, but they certainly had received supplies -- weapons, no less! And while the idea of stabbing creatures with a blade was terribly base and uncivilized, Obi-Wan was more or less convinced that there was very little about this place that could be called civilized.

Now it was just a matter of trying to figure out where to go from here. He'd have to talk with Qui-Gon, so they could decide whether they had sufficient weapons, or if they ought to donate some of their metal to less fortunate prisoners who were still lacking weapons.

In the meantime, he supposed he ought to eat a good, healthy breakfast so he could at least start the day right. And while he was at it, take some time to talk to some of the newer "patients". As easy as it was to get caught up in his own plans, the Jedi recognized the benefits behind establishing connections and helping newcomers adjust to the place. He'd been knew here, once. That had been about almost two weeks ago, hadn't it? Time certainly crawled in this place. To Obi-Wan, it might as well have been a whole year.

It didn't take long for him to find a face he didn't recognize right away, which wasn't a surprise, given the man's distinctive features -- tall and gangly, an unusually round face, eyes and hair that were incredibly dark. After he approached him, he realized he must have been close to around his age, although that by itself wasn't particularly odd. Come to think of it, there didn't seem to be many older people being held captive here, though Obi-Wan knew looks could often be deceiving in that regard.

"Good morning," he greeted with a small, pleasant nod. "Do you mind if I sit here?"