the monsters turned out to be just trees

hope keeps us breathing, just to kill us in the end

Only a few that Remi knew of treated him like he wasn't just some bumbling idiot. Though Loren wouldn't be able to see, the alchemist let his fingers flex into the cold earth below as he pulled in a large breath to try and soothe his stressed mind. I have known the fae far longer than you, he might have reminded Loren. I am allowed here, and Offering you clothing hardly constitutes an escape. Though what he couldn't decide in that moment, was whether or not Loren really thought the alchemist so untrustworthy, or whether the Launceleyn was somehow pleased about his state of affairs. Something about the way Loren preferred to be slightly cold and damp than accept help, how he walked away before the conversation was finished, how he'd not even apologized for making a mess of things but simply accepted his punishment. How cavalierly he'd instructed what to say to Jace and Beatrix, but not anyone else.

"Alright." The alchemist whispered, glancing to Astra and smiling sadly. "Hopefully the walk home will be shorter. Something tells me the fae will make it so."

Rising, the alchemist paused, his unyielding generosity winning out over his frustration and despair, Remi created a new set of clothes for the summoner below. They'd likely be a bit too warm, but they were warm knitted garments meant to be more cozy than the travelling clothes Loren was currently in. Unable to see the blanket one of those appeared as well, all of which neatly floated down into the pit to rest at the summoner's feet. If Loren bothered to pick them up, he'd notice that even in this quick feat of magic, Remi's mind had taken the time to add phoenix and luxere details in various places on the fabric.

"They will let you out soon. I have never seen prisoners remain for more than a week, and none have been harmed yet." The alchemist called down, before turning defeatedly to go.