[He recognizes the place he wakes up in after the mall. He recognizes the cement walls, and, worse he knows the moaning outside, echoing down the hallways. He also knows the scent of blood and death all over him, and it's all he can do not to go running toward the sounds outside just to have something to sink his claws into.]
[clem m]
That place where you're stuck. It's a prison. [...] A prison that smells like death.
eta: [graham (?)]
[He has no idea who he's locking to, but he gives it a try, pacing.]