"Faris!" He repeats it brightly with a smile and his hands coming together in a soft clap in front of him. "Faris, yes. Of course. Oh, but you'd told me before and I'd gone and let it be dashed from my head by the festival disaster. How gauche of me..." He reaches a crooked finger into the largest frontmost hole of his cage to nervously pick at the bandages wrapped around his eyes. But he stops when the cat reaches over and bats at his arm, snatching his hand away quickly and folding both now in his lap.

"Yes, something of that nature. Futures that seem inevitable. Destiny that is. Thrust upon you by merit of circumstance. I firmly believe that, yes, one may fight as hard as they must to break free of such matters. So much of my research breaks down to that alone; grasping and wrenching fate to bend to my design, not the universe's."