Once free Sky Lynx lurched to his unsteady feet with all the grace of a drunken newborn foal as the humans beat a hasty retreat, the thick door sliding closed behind them. Growling he lunged halfhearted at the thick glass, hissing and cursing loudly in his native langue. Not that they would know what he was saying since it sounded like course deep growls mixed with bird like sounds. Normally he was not one to use such profanity or be so irritable but he was being pushed to his very limits of patience by the brutes. If it wasn't so against his morals and ethics he'd give them all a sound thrashing and teach them a short sharp lesson in pain. Not to the point they suffered needlessly, not that they didn't deserve it; he didn't want to sink to their level of needless brutality.<br/><br/>The only solace he had come from the fact that he would escape this place.  He'd spent hours observing his captors making sure he knew as much as possible about their daily routines, what weapons they carried, when the guard changes occurred so he could ensure he wouldn't be captured and crammed back into a barren cell. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do other than pace or stare at the walls so he had made use of his time to plan an escape.<br/><br/>A series of soft beeps pulled him from his dark thoughts.<br/><br/>Sky Lynx turned his head towards the far end of the cell, the growl dyeing in his throat as shock settled in. Large blue optics roved over the thin lanky appearance and sickly grey color that vaguely remained him of decayed organic flesh and the countless scars that marred its skin. Disgust wells up deep inside him. How many others had they tortured in such a manner? If he could he would free his fellow captives once he escaped the confines of his cell. If he could just get one out.......he turns his head towards his captors, a low deep growl stirring in his chest, blue optics narrowing. If looks could kill a certain scientist would be a smoldering pile of carbon ash. Slowly he pushes down the anger and turns toward the creature.<br/><br/>He staggered over to the glass that separated them, plopped down on his aft since he didn't trust his trembling legs to hold him and gazed at the creature, head held high and shoulders back, wings tightly against his sleek sides. As much as he didn't want to sully himself by speaking the course langue of the humans, he didn't know what language the poor creature spoke and if it had been among the humans long enough to be in such a wretched state, it may have learned enough that he could attempt to converse with it.<br/><br/>Maybe he should say something, a greeting at least. It would be rather rude of him not to say something “You seem to be just as much of a prisoner here as I am.” He winces inwardly at the choice of words, way to state the painfully obvious. “Can you…understand me?”