Ouroboros Spine foxfire

All that he found was grass. Some dry, some fresh and trying to spread. There were a few clusters of tiny white dots freckling the hillside and then further down, yellow bundles ready to open up; in a day or two the hill would be covered in blooming weeds.

The boy's ears slanted when he heard her question. He did not answer until he'd moseyed some distance, taking the time to think.

That was nowhere. He answers. Every place was the same regardless of elevation, and Nuak knew he did not fit anywhere in a physical sense. He barely deserved to take up the space that he did.

He pauses and places his raised paw down. A thought has occurred to him, one he mulls over. When he voices his next question he does not look her way, and there is a hardness to his voice, a resistance.

Why give me so much, when I am nobody? What is it you want?