Hunk's hands gripped the rails even tighter as Hope shared some of his story. He and his friends didn't sound like warriors, they sounded like gladiators in an arena, like prisoners. And man was stripping people's freedoms away from them a great way to make his blood boil. It just might've, if Hunk hadn't known full well that they weren't anywhere near Pulse or Cocoon and couldn't do a thing about it. The fact that Hope also apologized softened his mood a lot, too.

"It's fine." Hunk smiles at the kid, shrugging his shoulders. Time to change the subject.

"But hair colors!" He points a finger towards the sky, boisterously and authoritatively, and starts wagging it into the distance. "Where I come from, it's blacks and browns and oranges and some yellows. First person I ever saw with silver hair was a ten-thousand-year-old alien princess." He says this matter-of-factly, even though he knows how insane it sounds.

"Aaaaand the closest thing I have to an Eidolon, my Alegsander," he chuckles, making a play on words for his own mirth, "is a giant yellow lion with drill claws, armor, and laser cannons." Hunk knows it all sounds insane, because it's too weird to be true, and he's banking on his delivery getting some kind of amusement out of Hope.