When she'd said sharing memories, he hadn't been quite sure what to expect, but one thing had been for sure -- he hadn't expected to find himself some place else entirely. Certainly, he understands that they haven't really gone anywhere, that they're still sitting in the bar, but he's actually within her memory, rather than viewing it as he'd imagined he would, like a movie.

Looking around, taking in the atmosphere of the club, the colors, the sounds, the other patrons, a faint blush rises to his cheeks as soon as he notices some of the more scantily-clad dancers. Certainly, seeing scantily-clad individuals is nothing new to him, but he's never had the ease with it that most of his friends have.

He turns back to her before he stares too long at any of the other patrons, none of whom are human. "This is very... different than what I'm used to."

It's not a particularly eloquent expression of just how strange it feels to be within someone else's memory, but it will have to do for now.