Forge was following behind the rest, slower for more than just the obvious reason. He could walk easily enough with his prosthetic leg, he had no real limp, but he did occasionally put it on, just because life was easier when people underestimated you. His jeans and shoe covered the false leg fairly well, but there was no missing the grabber-hook where his right hand had once been. Staying back, he watched the Brit and the man with strikingly green eyes banter and flirt, making a mental note of that. Little got past Silvercloud's sharp black eyes, and he was quite sure the Brit was eager to sleep his way through the group of young delinquents. He assumed people such as this man were the reason there were no females included in the group.
The Native moved slowly, soon picking a spot with plenty of litter, just far enough from everyone else to be able to observe them all. Some carried shame, some seemed to find this kind of social gathering quite fun, regardless of if it was supposed to be punishment or not. Some were annoyed, some determined. Forge was simply annoyed. He had been trying to right things, trying to improve the world, and he had already been punished enough, by his judgement. No one here had lost two limbs in their crimes, and Forge refused to believe his actions were a crime. He mulled over his anger when his eyes settled upon one individual. Pretty, soft, weak, vulnerable. One black brow arched as Silvercloud deliberately and openly observed the most attractive of the bunch. He was clearly weak willed and Forge was already imagining those shapely lips wrapped around his cock. "Interesting," he breathed to himself before dropping his eyes back to his job, dropping a paper cup into the plastic trash bag he carried in his only real hand.