Churning waters had wedged themselves in his mind, yet there was an acute absence of a storm in his memories. Only the thundering roar of the river and stunned fear pounding in his aching chest as merciless pressure planted a boot down on his back and forced him under. He was an utter idiot for settling in the middle of a swamp, and even more so for venturing towards the flooded outskirts in broad daylight. His instincts were going haywire, screaming at him to return to higher ground with every cautious pawstep wobbling dry root to dry root. Lantern-like visage locked on the idle ripples of murky water teeming with manmade toxins, the boy failed to catch the ginger blur shoving its way through the reeds until the voice caught his flighty attention.

    His burning gaze snapping up and the scrawny feline halting in his tracks, balanced atop the gnarled roots of a cypress, Beck tilted his head left to right, lazily staring down Lance. A twitch of a disfigured maw displayed his brief confusion, and as if he only just remembered the entire clan situation as well as potential newcomers, he hastily wheezed in muffled response, "Oh, right -- sure, ya can join. Jump on the bandwagon, all that fun shit." His bristling stub of a tail flicking once or twice in thought, Beck sorely rubbed the burnt tissue of his muzzle's scar with a frigid paw, flopping back on his haunches and casting his glare towards the ground. What was next again? "And... m'name's Beck, nothin' else." A rattling sniff sounded from the poltergeist, outstretching his neck in order to more accurately detect Lance's scent, and satisfied with the learned identity, he offered a crooked half-grin. Through gritted teeth straining to hold a proper welcoming smile, Beck countered the first question with a few of his own: "So, Lancie, where ya from? And what exactly do ya think your good for? Gotta be able to hold your own in a group, ya know." Or rather, he was determining just how disposable the young scrap of fur was.