Blackfoot Forest We are made of all those who have built and broken us.

The empath can sense something withheld, something left out. It's not her place to pry, nor is she likely to. Indeed, she simply nods with acceptance as the words come. The scent on the nanuk's coat speaks vaguely of a held territory, of a pack, a scent which the girl usually shys from. There's confusion hidden within the silver of her eyes, for the smell is faint.

"Nowhere," there's a familiarity to the curl of her tongue, to the movement of her lips. As if she has often silently mouthed the word to herself, it seems her tongue has grown accustomed to the shape of her loneliness. For a long time, nowhere was all she had. 

The waif had had a purpose at one point, shortly after setting out from the tribe. Tapeesa had searched for new lands, green lands said to be filled with prey. She'd wanted a better life and had been willing to seek it, but life here was much the same as it had been. Even now, Uki can feel a simmering frustration at the thought. 

"I was looking for home." It's unclear whether she means now or in the past for they're much the same to her. Regardless, there is an ageless weariness to the words as if she has seen much in her wanderings - more than she wanted.