As they continued Travis snickered a bit at the might hunter, pouncing on the dropped piece of meat. Otherwise, they ate contentedly,. Then, after it was over, Keona mused upon the fate of her father, the scarred and pale man who - in all likelyhood - knew something more arcane and dreaded than mere fire magic. At a guess, Travis would conclude that yes, he was alive. Men like that might go to any length to remain in this world. Plus, if it wasn't he who sent whatever was killing animals on this island, then who? Then, the other question...
"Hmm?"
He blinked, actually surprised at the question. Then, he looked down at the floor.
"I knew my parents. I don't know my parents."
His eye met hers now as he elaborated on the situation he was in.
"I remember that my name is Travis McNaire, that I was just a boy when some men in hoods appeared and took me to their place of power, the altar in which they conducted their black rituals. Those things are quite clear. The punishing years after that made my childhood a distant and blurry memory. It's just a faded image in my head, and as of now, I've yet to find the McNaire family. They could have been victims, they could've died out naturally, or I could've just missed them. It's been around twenty years, I think, so the trail is cold."
Even the hooded men were hard to find. Travis now looked to the ceiling.
"Sometimes, I like to think that if they're anything like me, they'll find some way to push past the heartbreak and the lonelyness, and move on. But I'm just projecting the me that woke up in a demon's body and powered through to where I am now. I don't know. I'll miss 'em, but I can't do anything about 'em."