A far away look came to Luke's face at Marr's words, remembering... no, a memory from when he was a child, but incomplete. The homestead's garage; he had spent so much time there, knew it like the back of his hand, but lingering frustrations and anger had driven him away from it when he was really small. He could see it now, though; his father fiddling with something, trying to let the thing take away his frustrations, but it wasn't working and not even throwing it away could easy his angry.

He's holding me back!

He shook the vision off, letting out a breath.

"That... sounds about right," he murmured, rubbing at his forehead. "I was scolded often for not having control of my emotions. My last master almost refused to train me because of it."