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[great_talent]

Island life wasn't much different from how his old life had been, before he had realized his powers. The days seemed to meld together until it was to the point Hiro hardly knew the date. For someone who had been starting to learn to control time, he was pretty easily losing track of it

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[unemain]

Fergus tilted his head, a puzzled expression on his face as he watched the man, who looked a bit but not much like Mr Willougby that Milord had toted about, with the exception that this man looked significantly less drunk and less likely to shoot a man and grope a whore right after. Like less trouble. With the exception of the strange expressions he kept making, which were, quite fascinating and quite disturbing.

"What are you doing? Are you confused?" he croaked in question, laughing just a bit.

[great_talent]

Hiro looked up, immediately looking a little sheepish when he realized the man was staring at him. The person was oddly familiar to him, but Hiro couldn't put a finger on why.

"Oh, no," he replied, giving the man a friendly smile. "I was just...thinking."

[unemain]

To his relief, his initial observation that this man was not like Willoughby, vauge resemblance aside was confirmed. That would not have done him any sort of good. What with the nonsense talk and the ducking.

"Thinking is good. I am quite fond of it, occasionally," he grinned, scratching behind his ear with his hook.

[great_talent]

He regarded the hook with some interest. He had never actually met someone who had a hook for a hand besides in the movies.

"Is it hard to have hook for hand?" he asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him.

[unemain]

He glanced down at his hook, a momentary look of surprise on his face, as if he hadn't noticed it before, and he twists it slightly, before raising it up for them both to see better.

"Not particularly," he answered, shrugging just a bit, and wiggling his fingers. "I still have one good hand, and this? This just helps make me special."

[great_talent]

Hiro could understand the wanting to have something that made him special.

"It very nice. I never see anyone with hook," he offered. "Do you mind me asking how you hurt old hand?"

[unemain]

He grinned, and stepped forward, holding his hook out, laughing just a bit. "Not many people have them. You can touch it, if you'd like."

Now this was one of his more favourite stories. He grinned wickedly. "It was cutoff, by devilish fiends who tried to catch me but I was too fast for them. Even at fourteen I outsmarted them! It was worth the hand, stupide soldiers."