It's a question that requires more words than he is comfortable with. Used to speaking.

It hasn't exactly been a nurturing environment for him to relearn how to live. He is a blunt weapon to be pointed and used.

The mask slides open again slowly, and he answers the question without the voice modulator.

"I remember. Feeling... good. Dancing. Music. Trees. Beds. Our... home."

He just list what comes to his mind in the screeching flashes of memory.

He doesn't want to talk about it anymore, but now that he's remembering it comes to him.

"I am chasing you. Catching you. Holding-" He pauses and looks down, as if straining for something.

"I can make you laugh..." It seems so distant. Like it's someone elses memories.

In a way, it is.