Although he was grateful, for her sake, that she didn't take the bait it was still difficult for Danny to appear unconcerned at the guard's unnecessarily goading Colleen. He clenched his jaw, shoulders tight, and only relaxed again when they started moving. A casual swing of his arm back and he brushed Colleen's hand with his own, the touch brief but reassuring. It was as much for his own peace of mind as her own, a reminder that they at least weren't facing this tyranny alone.
The line of prisoners headed down the low hall and up a staircase out from under the earth. Down a long corridor of fenced energy alongside the arena complex until they reached a squat metal-sided building where other lines of prisoners were being herded inside. Grubby tables with long benches in rows filled the hall, its back wall occupied by a line of machines that scanned their wrists and spit out some semblance of food. There was a guard beside each machine, to keep the line moving and forcibly turn away anyone who didn't have the credits to afford their meal. Begging, as Danny and Colleen witnessed when they queued up, only seemed to make the guards hit harder. They enjoyed the opportunity.
Most prisoners who caught another's eye scowled menacingly. There were often fights in here, the best way for fighters to intimidate the others. Danny kept his gave fixed steadily on the machines ahead, ignoring shouts and insults. "It's all disgusting," he muttered to the space behind him as they reached the machines. He took up a tray and shuffled along to the machines with the most (barely) palatable fare and then followed their cell mates to a designated table where they sat on either side of it in the same order they'd come in. Danny's eyes remained averted, keeping his gaze on his plate as a big blue and muscled creature across from them stared between them shrewdly. Despite his efforts, their apparent camaraderie in the cell hadn't been entirely overlooked.