Moonspear you can only remember what you want to forget

Her own retelling was lively, if short. But it gave him a vague idea of what she had grown up with - and Tryphon found himself envious, strangely. Living with his parents, growing up all over, finding solace wherever they were; these were components to a life he never lead. He was reminded of what Caiaphas once told him - that his parents wished him harm, tried to kill him, that they did not want him - but the flash of memory was a muddy thing, and quickly evaporated within his mind.

Where did you go? A good question. He had no name for the lands outside the wilds - and so he was struck by his own pensive silence. What did you see?

There had been his shadow. He had chased his shadow for days, only to lose her - and despite his efforts, Tryphon could not remember where or why they had separated. He felt his chest clench, and briefly he looked quite sorrowful, but the boy tried to hide it with some laughter and a shrug of his shoulders - act nonchalant, that'll do the trick!

There were forests as far as the eye could see, in some places. So thick with green that they were black. To the north was more snow than anything, and great ice grottos. I traveled up that way for so long - I can't say for certain how long, but, he had stopped when it began to feel like home. There was no reason why he'd felt such communion with the blank open space of the high north, and Tryphon would likely never know how well ingrained it was, to his core, in his blood. I turned around when things got desperate and went south again, to where the white became green, and the green turned to dust. None of it felt right though, so I... I came back here. And in doing so, found Charon. 

The boy realized he'd been talking a lot, and finally stopped, looking a bit smug and disoriented by the ensuing void of silence.