"That's good! You've got the hang of it now."

Apollo pauses thoughtfully in between searching for rocks, crouched over the shoreline and glancing briefly out across the glassy lake.

"You know what? I'm not too sure who taught me. Someone when I was younger, probably." He shrugs, sounding diffident about it all. His memory wipe isn't something he wastes much time being upset over; it's not like he can change any of it. "I don't remember anything about my past, you see. Sometimes I just know things without remembering exactly how or why."