Things forgotten and things unforgettable...
Sitting in the common room, a plate of food before him, Punchy lets his mind wander, taking in the view randomly as he ponders the unfamiliarity of the people he woke with in a little cell, chained and unable to free himself. Not used to being unfamiliar with things, especially those around him, Punchy recalls their names, and what they mean to him.
Scab, was the giant female human, that ate everything she could lay her huge hands on and had a serious issue with everything that wasn't herself. The scent of death seems to mingle with hers, like part of her has died, and is struggling to bring down the parts of her still living. He doesn't like her in general, but feels like he would prefer to die than let her fall behind. An uneasy clutch mate, though mostly because of necessity than anything else.

Where as Scab was the huge female human, Squisher was the shorter male human, though his stature seemed larger than that of Scab, his quite intensity gave him a seemingly larger presence. Punchy reacts to Squisher's defense of Scab in the commissary with fluid ease, flanking the big woman without a thought- the act alone baffling him partly, though as he thinks about it, nothing else he could have done makes any sense at all. The way Squisher moves reminds Punchy of something, though he can't quite place a claw on it...

The Grumpy little man trapped within a dray calls forth only confusion, the essence of the dray overwhelming every of thought of the person within, though Punchy knows that this odd pair is part of his Clutch, he can't quite remember why, the thought always dancing just out of reach of his mind. He gets the sense that the Dray isn't someone he likes, though why is beyond him.

And as he stares at his clutch mates an overwhelming terror grips him, the sadness of someone lost, and not remembered, though why he would feel such things when his clutch was full Punchy couldn't understand. He catches himself looking for someone else, when there is no one else to look for, though he knows that this isn't true, and it makes him reach deeply into his center, pulling forth every bit of memory he can, digging though his thoughts for who could possibly be missing. This leaves him distant, and he sits in his corner, Meditating to give his memories a keener edge, constantly trying to reach through the fog that clouds his mind, fighting back against it vainly.


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interesting to see Pak's perception of others through the grey. Though he cant remember all of his companions. Maybe if they threw up a post it might jog his memory.