[b][h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1]
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[center][img]https://s.aolcdn.com/dims-shared/dims3/GLOB/crop/3280x2050+0+121/resize/640x400!/format/jpg/quality/85/https://s.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/midas/73ce8167c00ca1dc68e8468a67c07477/202780896/Photo+Credit+Jordan+Matter.jpg[/img][/center]
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[center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color]Argo III: Upperdeck
Skills: N/A[/center]
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	As Rebecca leaned in and whispered something to the Gryphon, he waited for an answer to the question. Honestly, he wasn't sure how he was going to continue to get along with Rebecca, or atleast, have things not be awkward. Her mom killed his friend, after all. Glad the creature was at least going to be okay, he exhaled, before given Rebecca an odd look at her answer. Was it that hard to be straightforward and honest? If things weren't going to get better, she could at least say so, not dress up the reality in something pretty.

	"[color=4286f4]Right, so it's only a matter of time before I'm dead, or somebody else here is.[/color]" He said, as he could feel his anger rising, before taking a few trembling steps away, "[color=4286f4]Is it mostly monsters, or do our parents really like killing us too? Or is that just your mom's thing?[/color]" The words tumbled out of his mouth, not really thinking about the potential impact they could have. He didn't have anger at Rebecca, but at this entire situation. There didn't seem to be any good or bad forces, just ones that would kill them indiscriminately, and those that would keep them around as long as they were useful.