There was something familiar about this soggy path, about the way the ocean water turned to steam beneath his paws. A lot of things felt familiar these days. It didn't mean this place was anything special, of course. He had felt the same sense of deja vu this morning when eating his breakfast. It was better safe than sorry though, any hint of familiarity was a step closer to piecing together the fragments of his old memories. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered with this whole cycle, he was never the same person as the past version of himself. Anyone that knew the old Luca was always turned off by his disappearances followed by personality shifts, and then more disappearances. Not that it lead to any disappointment. Anyone that knew him was glad to have him gone.

He chewed idly on the plastic of a lollipop stick as the rumoured island finally came into view. At least he wasn't on some wild goose chase. His paws were aching at this point, but it was nothing that he wasn't used to. Years of training had prepared him for any sort of physical effort, so he was able to brush it off without so much as a second thought. No amount of training could lessen the distracting tightness of his chest, however. He was reaching his limit when it came to his malfunctioning lungs. At least it looked like his information was correct, so he'd be able to rest his body soon enough.

The soft clinking of his overgrown claws against the rails beneath them soon slowed, and then came to a complete halt. He'd reached the entrance, it seemed. Luca's eyes fell on the bells, but they moved on with a snort and a crinkle of his nose. Shrill noises were like a hammer to his head, he'd rather be attacked than suffer through that. After a quick survey his paws lifted again, carrying him right past the gates and into the territory. There was nothing really interesting there, it was animals he was after. A deep longing thrummed in his soul, a need that he couldn't quite place. Whether this desire was for his memories or something more specific, well, only time could tell.

It doesn't take long for someone to come across him. He looks up when he notices the form staring at him, matching her with an analytical gaze of his own. Green eyes clash with unnatural pink, and neither Luca's stare nor his expression waver in the slightest when she begins to close the distance between them. Quite obvious is the swell of her stomach, the proportion of it when compared to the rest of her body hinting towards pregnancy. The pregnant didn't fight often, and those that did were easier opponents. Although her stature is impressive, he doubts that he's in any danger, despite trespassing. Perhaps it's immoral to think about attacking the ill or otherwise burdened with such amusement. After all, there's no pride to gain from fighting those that couldn't fight back like they usually would. Luca didn't fight for pride, though. He fought for the rush of it all, and that rush wasn't harmed in the slightest by fighting against those weaker than himself. There's a smugness in the way that his muscles remain loose, expression almost bored as he regards the possibilities of this fast approaching encounter.

It's only when she says his name that he blinks, metaphorical brow raising in a telltale sign of surprise. So he had been to this place before after all. The haughty apathy that had clouded his vision slowly melts away, and he tilts his head to the right. He has to admit that the bengal is somewhat familiar, but what wasn't these days? She gets close to him, but he stays were he is, observing every curve of muscle, every hint of exhaustion etched into her face. He's still sizing her up when she speaks again.

"Luca, is that you?"

A cruel question, one he isn't fit to answer. He isn't sure what this girl means when she says his name. Who is Luca in the mind of this pregnant feline? A friend, a lover, an enemy? Maybe even family, if his past self was the type to worm his way into relationships like that. She doesn't seem to be showing any hostility, and is that hope he picks up in the gentle tones of her voice? Surely not. His pricked ears lower as the initial surprise fades, but he puts on a practised confident smile. "Sure is," he says, and laughs a short chuckle. A cough interrupts him, but he just wipes his muzzle with a paw and closes in on Goldenluxury further. "But who are you?" His tone is almost accusatory as his face nears hers, smoke pouring from between his jaws as he speaks.