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Entering the mess hall, Renauld was overcome with hearth and home. Even though it had only been the third or fourth day since leaving Andeave, the stress and anxiety of the winter landscape alienated the ice mage. A room full of strangers had never felt so familiar or friendly. Well, about as friendly as Renauld could muster. He got his bread and soup. For once, a warm meal that didn't cut into the roof of his mouth nor cover it in grease. Still an outsider to the fort, he sat with his party and wolfed it down. He ignored the noticeable pains of his scratched palate. To call it divine would be an overstatement. It was root soup and bread. Still, it beat what he had eaten for the previous half-week by a landslide. 

When Katya asked where Muu was, Renauld had a general idea on where she was. He didn't—and couldn't—know exactly where she was. He was at least attentive enough to know that she was taken to whatever sickbay this fort had. The gap in knowledge made him not answer the question. She was fine. Probably. Unless they were trying to shove foreign objects up her rear, really. He had no real idea if a prayer could cure sickness or how advanced medicine was, especially if people could just pray the hurt away.

Maybe she would have gotten the leeches.

Still, he wanted to conserve his strength for the return. Traversing back through the wilderlands was going to be miserable. As a result, he relaxed at the table.