The way Ned explains it makes it make sense, particularly the possibility that it could be some kind of random evolutionary factor. He nods, sighs a little in relief at the explanation.

"That'd do it, I guess," he agrees. "Or maybe not, like -- that point I went home, I was pretty stressed out anyway, and I know stress can trigger a lot of shit. But -- yeah, man, either way, you're right. Something triggered it, whether it was working too hard or physically getting chucked back home." And either way, it still unnerves him.

"So -- I never got the chance to ask about what you got saddled with," Galen says, attempting to gently shift the subject. He reaches to touch one of the close by flowers, smirking a little. "This is a fuckton of foliage, dude."