This prison was a one way stop they said, one of those you sold it and lived in hell. He was one of the unlucky ones, no safe little cage to keep him in, but he was best when thinking on his feet, or in a female guards break time. At 7'5  and three fifty-five of musle, little bothered him. Reece Evros would move, through the low lit area on a cliff. His boots were not the best, but protected his feet, and his pants, overalls, without the straps upon his shoulders. He watched the going ons, the regular fights, and perched in his crevice. Blue eyes shimmered like the cats silver ones. Perhaps seeing a kindred spirit had saved him for awhile.<br/><br/>But her avoided them at feeding time, and most others. The merc tatt was scarred as they burnt it from him. You name the joint up until now he had escaped, only to end up in this place. No escape had been done, and if it had, he was another place at the time. Drinking his tea, he kept an eye on the guards and their little fun games. He found none fun, and avoided them if he could. He would flip down a chain, swinging to a lower level. His muscles flexing as he lowered himself. Jumping the last foot. " Nother day."