Totoka River i spend my money on the regular miracles

confusion overwhelms his embarrassment when the stranger agrees to keep him company, sounding awkward but not dishonest — he thinks. he likes to imagine daisy fields has taught him a thing or two about spotting dishonesty, but for all he knows he's deluding himself. so he keeps his mouth shut and tries to look grateful, until the other asks him about activities. with each passing second in this wolf's company, he thinks more and more that he's terribly strange in an awkward, jumbled way — like a mismatched puzzle assembled from various stray pieces that almost fit together. and maybe the resulting picture makes little sense so far, but he finds it... magnetic, in a way.
we could explore? he suggests, immediately feeling a little dumb; the stranger has probably already seen all there is to see here if he lives nearby. or we could... talk? or play a game? he's not very good at this either, apparently.