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"I think his name was... Lucas, or something like that. But it's not important." It was a little disappointing to see the disgust on the budgie's face. It took different things to make Zach disgusted himself. At one point, after Moreau had kicked him out of his duplex, he was forced to eat whatever living things he could find to survive. Even now he'd grown used to a diet that had plenty of blood involved. There was no use for a weak stomach when his life was on the line. Zach valued it as physical proof of the lengths Sabin was going to. It had stopped occurring to him that he'd earned such protection not on his own merits, but merely by being the doctor's complacent pet project. The less he thought about everything, the happier he was.

"This is what happens to the people who use violence here. It doesn't go unpunished." He tapped a claw lightly on the lid. This extreme measure would work, hopefully. Even if the dhole didn't learn from it, others would hopefully take the hint and not even try. After a moment of looking at the jar himself, he reluctantly pulled it off the table and put it back in the medicine bag. There was no sympathy in his voice when he spoke again, giving his words a detached quality and a casual air. "It's too bad some of them have to learn this way, hm?"

"So I've heard," he muttered darkly, looking away from the budgie. As far as he'd seen, the dhole had been nothing but trouble to begin with. He grabbed a napkin and cleaned off his claws in much the same way one polishes knives. There was still fish on his plate, but the way he'd ripped into it made it difficult for him to try again without it falling apart entirely. He left it alone for the time being, not wanting to make a huge mess with someone else around.

"I guess some people have a hard time adjusting, even after this long." He propped his elbows up on the table so that he could slouch forward. His posture never had been the best. With an extra few feet of height, it was noticeable. "They don't have a right to take it out on others. I don't know how anyone is supposed to get that through to them though. Nothing works..."

Zach ignored the budgie's continued support of Lucas. He didn't have any reason to believe it anyhow. He'd lost an eye to that dhole. It was slowly beginning to dawn on him how serious it was. He could peel away the eyepatch at any point, but underneath there would be no eye. Nothing. It was gone, possibly forever. There had never been a price on his support for Sabin and the labs until then. Every punch had healed with time. Now, however, he'd received a permanent injury. It hadn't just been the dhole's insanity, though. Zach hadn't been careful with his words or his actions. He'd moved too close in order to appear threatening, had spoken too openly and contemptuously. He couldn't change what the psychopaths were doing unless he made a few changes to what he did about them.

The prospect of the disgruntled islanders being torn from some other, better life didn't make sense in his mind. It didn't matter where they came from. This place was better, even for the people who refused to believe it. It was hard to see the world beyond the island as anything but a nightmare from which he'd finally been awakened. His own past had been repeated to him several times by Sabin as a miserable, hateful existence, and he believed every word. Trying to think back that far to confirm it made him extremely nervous. He didn't even want to think about that life. It would only bring on another fit of madness which Sabin would have to help him correct. That was too much to deal with right now on top of losing his eye. He'd focus on the present pain and not that of the past.

"But you're trying to get used to it, right?" he asked, craning his neck forward a little. "And as far as lost lives... there's nothing to go back to. I mean, this Lucas probably thinks his family will somehow see him despite what he's become? No. They won't think 'this is Lucas.' They'll be thinking 'this was Lucas.' It's not like anyone treated the changed islanders around here any differently when they first got here. That's the human reaction."

"That's what counts," he remarked wistfully. He tried to avoid thinking too long on the state of his left eye. Not being dead was quite nice, even if it never seemed like something that would last very long. Too many people were out to challenge his right to life.

"Pretend? No. Just stop thinking about the past. It's not worth any thought here. Besides, haven't you ever wanted to just start over? This is that chance." He wasn't sure if the kid would understand. Teenagers made him feel strangely old, even though the difference between their ages had to be less than a decade. He glanced down at his plate and the half-eaten fish. He didn't feel so hungry now, for whatever reason. As good a reason as any to go back to his duplex, or maybe a walk. He rose from his seat, stretching his wings and tail a little as he did so.

"By the way... if anyone else gives you trouble, tell me. I want to keep track of who's harassing people around here. Something needs to be done to stop them." It wasn't so much for the budgie's sake as for his own. He didn't like being surprised by islanders suddenly going violent on him. With a parting wave of the hand, he picked up his dishes and moved to get rid of them and go on his way.