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"Dunno..." Sid was panting. How the hell could he maintain a capable front when he was panting. It took a lot of effort not to just let the wheelchair just slide out from under him. What was left of the painkillers of alcohol took the edge of the pain, but every time he put weight on his right leg pain lanced from his knee. His old comforts always chose the worst possible times to abandon him.

"Maybe... Maybe it only has so much juice in it?" He'd love to have something like that about now.

"Okay... That'll work..." Sid tried to keep going for a few paces even then before he gave up and let go. "I think I need to rest. Just for a bit."

There could only be so many convenient stumps and rocks in the jungle, and he couldn't make out any in the darkness. Up until then he'd forgotten about his glow in the dark tail, which was especially apparent once they were off the trail marked by the lights. He tried to keep his mind of that, and the pain, and all that other troublesome crap, but focusing on the topic of the collar.

"It didn't go off when you saw your- uh- friend, did it?"

He leaned against the closest tree, trying to be casual about taking as much weight off his leg as possible. He never even thought to ask for his cane back.

"Yeah, I know." Sid shifted postion to try and hide it only to discover that leaning to far in either direction put him at risk of either putting weight on his bad leg or mashing his tail against the tree.

He shrugged, but it was damned hard to act indifferent when the downers were wearing off. "I'm my own night light." Try as he might, he couldn't make the words sound anything but bitter. The thought struck again that not only would it get worse, but there may be a chance any given change could kill him. Every time he came to terms with something- make that everytime he put something out of his mind- something new came along to torment him. And he'd been doing so good...

Unable to safely talk about the collar, he moved on again. "Feeling better?"

Sid waved the offer off. "No, it's okay... I just... long night is all."

It sounded stupid no matter what he blamed it on. If he kept his left leg bent and his right leg straight, it was almost as good as sitting. Only problem was leaning against the tree was making his back hurt.

He kept talking, his last resort for keeping his mind off things. "Uppers... I had my fill of those, back in the 80's. I mentioned that before but, eh..." He turned one hand out, splaying his webbed fingers in a 'you know' gesture. "Never tried heroin though... LSD, sure. Cocaine, yes... Never that. Dunno why."

He looked up at the night sky through the branches of the tree as he tried to think of why that was. Had he known someone who had? Had he seen the detox? Was he just thinking of the plot of Trainspotting?

"Sure... It's nice... simple... understated, even."

Sid kept his eyes on the sky. He'd never been able to make any sense out of the stars, but it was strangely relaxing to just stare up into the black. It made him think of home... which didn't really make any sense, once he thought about it. "Who were you supposed to be again?"

All he had to do was scratch his chin to come crashing back to earth. His jaw still stuck out too damn much, and his beard was getting pretty scruffy sense he'd spent more time on relearning to talk than worrying about grooming.

"Oh... OH! I get it now." Actually Sid didn't, not really, but for all he knew he was likely one of the few test subjects who wasn't familiar with who was who amongst the staff. Best to just fake it then. "That's ******** up, man."

He tried to shift position again as his good leg decided to start to fall asleep, only to wince as he mashed his tail against the tree in the process. His knee was throbbing a little less, at least. He took to idly touching the many necklaces that were part of his outfit, and was a little surprised to find one that wasn't part of what he requested. It was, he remembered, one he'd had before shoved in amongst his things and added as an afterthought.

"s**t, totally forgot..." He held up the chain, which held three wedding bands on it of varying niceness. He smiled wistfully at it. "Personal touch, I guess."

"Yeah, it was this or tattoos of... what d'ya call 'em, those marks they paint on airplanes to designate kills. Only with wives. But I already paid for the rings... cept for the first one-" he picked the ring in question out from the others, the one that had actual diamonds in it. "So more money would just seem silly."

He felt better for rambling, if only emotionally.