He would accept the cloth to wipe off his scarred lips. The water skin he took more carefully, fingers curling around it with some skepticism.

"It's water?" Given confirmation, he'd take just a little into his mouth, enough to wash down the last of the taste.

"Is it always like this?" he asked, then, with a nod back toward the hall. He has no idea how long the other man has been here, but he at least looks like he belongs.