Who Am I?-galra keith

Marmora side

He woke knowing nothing.

He knew nothing, and yet,faintly,he's aware that something is wrong.

Of course something is wrong.Its a ridiculous thing to say.The absence of knowing is wrong.The yearning abyss where he's memory should be is wrong.He reaches back as far as he can,but no matter how deep he goes,there is still nothing.

But it's more than that,this feeling of wrongness.

He's face he feels,is wrong.He just doesn't understand why.

He doesn't remember.

He can't remember.

He vaguely knows where he is.He's a captive,of some sort.He's on a ship,but he doesn't know where-didn't think he'd know where even if he knew everything he should know.

He doesn't know where he is,only that he shouldn't be here.

He knows that if he doesn't get out of here,something far worse than not knowing will happen.He doesn't know what that might be-maybe he's memories are gone,but he's instinct is still there,made sharper in the absence of not knowing.

They tell him that he cannot afford to stay,that if he stays,he will loose something far more important than simple memories.

Himself ,he thinks.He'll loose himself.For whatever much that counts as,When he has no idea who that is.

(Only the dim feeling that his face is wrong.He's eyes are wrong.His skin is wrong.He just doesn't remember what is what right.)

He has to get out of here,he knows that,knows it in his bones.There is witch here,that he knows,and the witch wants something from him,something that he cannot and will not give her.He must try and get away somehow,though he gets the feeling he's always tried this.

He licks his lips and knows his teeth are wrong too.But he can use them,will use them-he has no weapons but he is not defenseless.

There is chaos on the ship now,and he senses that this is he's time to get away.He doesn't know what the source of it is,but he's not going to waste what might be he's only chance.They want to move him somewhere else,off the ship,away from whatever is causing trouble.

The witch is not here right now,but she will come in time.He will not let her,will not be here when she comes will not be taken to her.

He's hands are bound,but he's legs are free.Then too,are his hands,and he ignores the pain from the blade that severed his cuffs,that skirted close to his back.He has no idea where he will go,only that he MUST go,all of his instincts screaming at him,warning him,telling him that a suffering much more vast thsn not knowing who he is  awaits him if he does not escape.

The source of all this chaos finds him,it was looking for him.

He tenses,watching them with caution,fur(it's wrong,that just feels wrong) raised.They are not like the other's on the ship,the sentries and the soldier( distantly he wonders how he knows that).A mask and a blade,and then just a blade,because he shows his fsce and recognize's he is one of them,but he is not a enemy.

He thinks.

(He is one of them too).

(He doesn't know who *them* are).

He thinks that he cannot understand him at first-thinks him to be primal,feral.He dimly realizes he is on all fours, tail(wrong,WRONG!)lashing wildly behind him with a stinger raised and armed to strike,giving into the only thing that he has left to get him out of here-his instincts.

If he goes with this one,he can get out of here,he senses-the man says as much,tells him his name is ulaz.Ulaz,who recognizes his attire as belonging to that of a prisoner ,who tells that they must escape and get out of this place,who asks if has a name,uncertain if the one before him knows how to speak.