Estinien doesn't really know what shrines Yuya means, but he also doesn't have any compelling evidence beyond his own gut instincts. The shrines had reminded him of something like an aetheryte... natural materials to use for some manner of magick.

But really, he's more interested in the bread right now. Yuya lifts it up again, and he compulsively tries to make his hand to take it, only to reach the limit of his bonds, and remind him of his circumstance. A flash of frustration goes through him, causing him to yank more desperately at the cord entangling his wrists, but it's useless.

His arms and legs are already marked with sores up and down their length from all the times a whip has lashed across them. This is especially apparent at his wrists, and he can feel the pain of his bonds biting into his existing wounds, but he does so regardless.

"...Shite," he breathes miserably.