Benedict folds his arms, looking manfully off into the distance, allowing them to calm themselves before he answers. He hasn't just flipped them the bird and run off, which is a good sign, but it's clear that his pride has taken a hit.

"There was," he mumbles, "that place we all got stuck, and lost our memories." This is not a story he enjoys telling, and he glances dolefully at Clarisse. You do it.