Tsukikage looks over and stifles a laugh at the bewildered expression from the other man. Right. Speedwagon was a newcomer. He probably didn't know about some of the other nuances of monsters, really.

"They're other people who have been taken from their worlds to Ryslig. I run a halfway home near Lake Dala but these days I only host kids and care for them. There's three of them now... ranging from ten to... sixteen, I think Narancia is at the moment?" Well, Narancia is the age when he came to Ryslig but he classes him as a kid all the same.

Tsukikage's left hand smooths over the joints of his... other left hand. At the base of his thumb, Tsukikage digs his long nail into the weakest part of the joint, forcing out blood-like lymph. He doesn't even flinch from the prick of pain. Instead, he brings his lower arm to his lips and mumbles something quietly before he pulls his arm away and acts like nothing ever happened.

Sorry Speedwagon. He's... definitely a bit weirder than one would give him credit for. And it only gets worse from here.