Thyra watched him carefully, noting the playful glint in his eyes, if not a bit troublesom, to the way his lean form moved with a flowing grace and subtle strength that could rival any khajiit. A small smile spread across her pale, cracked lips and she laughed lightly. "Well, it seems we are both in trouble." Thyra returned, pulling the leather throng from her windswept braid in an attempt to regain control of blonde locks. What a mess she had gotten herself into.

"You'll make yourself pass out that way." She warned him lightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she glanced up from her braid. A sharp pain was burrowing its way into her stomach and she finally began to take note of her empty belly.

At long last she let out a sigh, turning her attention to his last statement with a frown. "If they knew they could get away with it, they would save the headsman the journey, I assure you. Damn Imperials." She spit the words as if they were fire on her tongue, a rage igniting in her violet gaze as her features set into a deep scowl. "Faithless cowards." 

She seemed to stew over the events of her capture for a while before inhaling deeply, her features softening. "Doesn't matter now, does it? Though they could at least bring some damn bread. No nord wants to face death on am empty stomach." Her words rolled from her tongue, crisp and full of the deep accent accustomed to the natives of her home. There was no hiding her irritation in regards to her hunger. A nord could abide a great many things, but an empty belly and an empty tankard did not make that list. She glared at her soft, freshly blistered hands in frustration.