[For once, Yarne doesn't feel like backing down. His fingers tighten around his axe for a second, but the grip relaxes. He can play it cooler than this. He's used to being on the streets, surviving a fight or two...he doesn't want it to come to blows, but there's something about being told his memories are fake that really grinds his gears.

Sure, he remembers dying. He remembers the fire, strangers and close friends alike being killed, and a lot of it is his own fault. There's something he clings to, though. A peaceful world...well, a mostly peaceful world. Someone to love. A chance to go to school, even if it's a waste of time. Those are all very nice things, and trying to remember otherwise only gets him another headache.]

...What the hell have you done with your life? [His voice is more Yarne-like at first, completely exasperated. These memories are all awful...no doubt all of his own early ones are, too, but seriously.] Don't answer. I already know parts of it. How did you figure it all out?