Broken Boulder living a little

A house - not a home. He thought of that for a brief moment in quiet contemplation beneath the riveting storm that paraded around them. Roscoe barely remembered a home at all but could easily see it being that his mother had been that way for him for some time. She had always chosen their placement for them and the boys had gone along with her. Me neither, he mentioned lightly, or at least none that I remember. For a long time, the boys had traveled alongside their mother but anything younger than six months and he wouldn't remember. There was a curious afterthought when she mentioned making her own. He didn't know the first thing about packs and truthfully, didn't think he'd be able to help her with that either. Didn't even know that just being a number would help, either.

Sure? he chuckled awkwardly, not sure if that was something he'd be good at either but if she believed he'd be good at that then it must be true. Or at least, perceivable. If-if that's what you think would work... I can try. Roscoe was about as awkward at believing himself physically than anything. There wasn't a whole lot of confidence in that department - he was definitely more centered around being socially confident than physical.