Edgar nodded, casting his own eyes downward. "I see..."

He had to remember that they'd been prisoners for some time- while it didn't seem very long, it was relative to some of the other patients, the general populace's numbers fluctuating on an almost daily basis. People came and went, while others vanished into the night of the same day they'd arrived- he still didn't know what separated those who left from those who didn't, and given how little he felt he'd accomplished against the institution in his imprisonment thus far, he wasn't sure he ever would know.

He pushed a sigh through his nose, never willing to accept that answer. He was a stubborn thing.

"We were looking for a cure when it happened," he started, deciding it couldn't hurt to explain to Gren what had happened. It certainly couldn't make matters worse for Locke. "We weren't far from the patient blocks, so we managed to contain him in an empty room. I got clawed in the neck; the other man with me was already sick. We tried to secure our mutual friend again the next night, but he changed in the hallway. Things ended badly, to say the least."