This was even worse than he'd imagined, and Gin hadn't even thought that was possible. The stench alone was enough to make him not want to sit in the cell he was in. Whether this was where he was to stay or where he was just going to sit until he was moved somewhere else and then given whatever sort of punishment they felt was justified, he didn't know. But he could definitely do without the foul stench of old, damp, moldy straw. Even when he'd hidden in stables to sleep the straw was fresh. Well... fresher.
He'd only really let them drag him this far because part of him was hoping he'd get his book back, though that was looking to be increasingly unlikely. Now he just needed to try to find a way out of here... somehow. There were two ways in or out. The first was the window, which was small and high off the ground. The second was the door, barred and noisy if he was even able to pick it open.
There was of course the other option that would make the first option impossible because of height alone and the second more feasible but incredibly more dangerous. Gin had seen hounds on his way in. No, that didn't bode well at all. He was just going to have to wait this out until he had a freer moment in which to give the slip.
He really didn't like being stuck in a room like this. Caged. “Shud'na come here,” he muttered from the spot here he leaned against the wall. “Stupid idea.”