@[member="Strider Garon"] @[member="Grimm"] @[member="Gilamar Skirata"] @[member="Tresk Ak'lya"]
Preliat's eyes wandered over to Strider, and he walked past Grimm, albeit after shoving him with his shoulder. He turned his head towards him, his shaven mohawk bouncing as he turned to face Strider. He thumbed over at the boy, but decided to speak to him about it later. He saw Ordo singing, and some other friendly people. His face turned a bit sour, realizing that it was time to take his anti-depressant. It helped with his PTSD, so he excused himself and went to the kitchen. He set his helmet on the table, but finally decided to sit down, taking in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, trying to calm himself. Wasn't good to take the meds while on an episode or suffering from an attack, it could make it worse, or make him extremely tired, or not work at all.
He sighed, leaning forward. He resisted the urge to scream, and instead took long, heavy, breaths, to calm himself. He shook slightly, but would recover, if given a moment to collect himself. He was a Mandalorian. Ori'ramikad. The best. Rally Master. He had earned so much, but he still had to suffer this. Wasn't terribly fair.