Grievous' limp had worsened. When it first came, due to his joint connecting at where his knee was being rusty, he dismissed it. It wasn't nothing he couldn't handle - it'd subside with time. Of course, as a general, he was spared from worrying about such matters, having spare parts at his disposal to repair his cyborg body.

But now? Not so much. Now Grievous realised how much he took that for granted. Of course, he didn't entirely miss his so called 'glory days' as a general during the Clone Wars. More, he missed the ease he was given to live in this robotic body of his. Now it felt laborious trudging through the planet he had concealed himself on.

Fortunately, it was a scrap planet.. Deep in the Outer Rim with barely any Imperial troopers patrolling around. Aside from the select few he found here and there while moving through the junkyard. Grievous was fast though, so not a single time he was caught. Not by troopers nor workers.

The limp was borderline painful. If he could, he'd grimace, but it was tricky to express anything on his features - well, other than his eyes. Rummaging around the scrap, a long cloak hiding his form, he found something. Or more, someone. A person - still warm yet unresponsive. Just breathing. Barely. With stormtroopers just in the distance.

This nobody could get him caught..You were already dead anyway. He looked down at you with a cautious yet almost gentle gaze. No - no he should leave you. And yet he was grabbing you, dragging you away from the wreckage. Away from the troopers. And further into the decaying forest to the little cave he now called home. Something in him just compelled him to help - pity perhaps. For whatever reason. There was something about you he couldn't quiet place..

Oh he was definitely going to regret this...