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Food, now that Willow tasted the nourishing substance against his lips, it was safe to say that the teenager had missed the sensation. One could not claim that the meal resting between his slender fingers was considered impressive, or viewed with high regard, but being picky was a fool's errand in the vacuum of space. Indeed, it was worthy of note to mention Willow's company. They were all criminals, each presence was branded a degenerate. What were they, more than weapons suited with the mind of a gestalt's free will? If the Alliance was capable of such a feat, surely they would rob this merry band of warriors, of what could be considered their only freedom. Their free will. After all, what use has a weapon that refuses to obey its master?

Poking his food with a fork, Willow managed a soft break before sipping from his drink. Orange juice, something mostly anyone would welcome to a morning's fatigued embrace. Even the voices quieted down once Willow was able to restore his strength. Resisting their clawed touch was a feat more reachable when Willow's ability stave off the tricks of the mind was heightened.

Finishing the breakfast which in turn allowed for a more pleasant experience, the teenager ascended to his feet with a tray resting under his arm. Truly, the various characters donning this ship filled its interior design with color. Tracing his feet across the grated floor, Willow allowed his eyes to gaze towards the area now under a continues construction to achieve the gun range he would all but one day visit, merely to watch his fellow crew mates wring grace with firearms. He could not use one to save his life, quite literally. The recoil would surely break his arm, in the process. Luckily however, Willow was a weapon in his own rights. Using a weapon would merely be detrimental to him. something which would prevent full efficiency. Shifting his attention, Willow's large black eyes proceeded to follow Stryker's stride as the man continued up and stairs and ultimately entered his room. The man was speaking to someone, a communication device brought to view before a door then obfuscated sight and allowed for privacy.

It was not Willow's nature to snoop, not quite. Indeed, he was of curious ilk, but it was a stretch to claim that he put his nose, where it did in fact not belong. Rather, the boy returned the tray he carried, and then made his way towards the library. Indeed, such a gathering of knowledge was enough to sate a curious mind. Willow had always been drawn to the fantastical, or rather, the odd. Who was to blame him? His very existence had become one with an ancient being, or rather an ancient presence, as it was. Not a moment passed where his thoughts did not return to the dark depths which had conjured the virus now calling itself his name. One day perhaps, especially now, he would be able to visit the planet where this virus was first located. What unspeakable horror called this a natural state?

Willow had seen pictures taken of what could only be considered [i]his[/I] home planet, by now. It was dark, desolate and the buildings were made of stone. He had seen the desert climate covering the planet's surface, and he had heard its name spoken on several occasions, Necrotica. The air on this nightmarish realm was breathable, though one ought to be careful not to step too close to the black mist, or a painful end would be sure to greet you. Of course, Willow was exempt from these rules, but others could not claim the same.

Tracing his pale finger across the book spines, the boy tilted his head somewhat to read the text displayed upon their length. The Art of Combat, Geological Discoveries, Species Compendium, everything a wayfaring warrior would need, wasn't it? Pulling out the text of interest, Willow flipped open the cover as his eyes fixed their gaze upon a large title, 'Species Compendium'.