Firestone Hot Springs hanging in my infant air, waiting

eye-biss. kind of a strange name. then again, who was he to judge? in fact, she had gotten lucky with that name. it was pretty, like lah-nah. zig-gee. kall-ee. lill-ee—

his lower lip wobbled suddenly as he thought of his mother, and he bit it with tiny sharp teeth, hard enough for it to sting but not so much that it punctured through. cam, he responded after a moment, swiping his tongue over jowls that still quivered. at her second question, he gave a noncommital shrug, glancing around.

no, the boy answered cryptically, eyes wandering before returning to her face. so familiar. . . i dunno. not here. i live under trees. on second thought, he realized that the trees of his home didn't resemble at all those he'd passed by along the way here. but how to describe that difference? that, he didn't know.

did he even want to go back, with mummy gone?