Jail's just another Alehouse

Colt’s teeth flashed with his widening grin and he’d nod at Smithy. He'd offer the man a hand to shake, “Nice to meet you Smithy, and aye, I’ll try I suppose. There’s a few things I’m on the fence about forgetting though,” like a silver haired elf. He’d blink, cos technically there was another one, but that bitch he had so far avoided a repeat encounter with. He’d suppress the shudder that threatened to crawl over him as he recalled her magic and lovely reminder of how she nearly had him shitting his pants. "Women, right?"

Fucking mages, really.

As the spoon came out of his new friend Smithy’s pocket, Colt’s hands wrapped around the utensil, head spinning around to check the door and any other viewpoints into the cell. “Oooh we don’t flash our toys, Smithy,” he’d chuckle, gently urging the man to put it away. “Gotta wait till it’s a little darker. Night time is best for when we start,” he’d motion turning an invisible lock, face contorting to one side, “schinkin’ it and heading home. I think yours might be too big, but I got some nice thin bits for these garbage locks.”

Suddenly he frowned, head half thinking ahead and where he’d be heading next, but what about his new mate Smithy. “...Speakin’ of home though.. You do remember where that is, aye?”