Duck Lake Through the boughs of the garden

His throat gurgled as Amalia spoke, though he ignored it. Her explanation made sense, though Atreus wondered why they’d chosen to live on a mountain rather than near the river. He realized he never wanted to live on any kind of high ground again, lest it remind him of the rise. He wanted to live somewhere that was the exact opposite of a mountain. Did such a place exist?

His stomach lurched when he realized this meant he couldn’t go with her. Right around the time that thought hit him, Amalia’s paw touched his. He swallowed and looked down at their paws, craving more contact but uncertain how to accept, much less ask, for it. He slipped his paw away.

No, he answered her question. It doesn’t matter. Atreus let out a breath. I need to figure out what to do now.