Ouroboros Spine kuagak

a home! a home; peregrine wanted to spit in her face for not demanding anything of him. she had no use for him and yet she tended to him anyway. it made his heart thud and bile lurch into his burning throat.
why? what good was he? what was the catch?
but all he can muster is a soft utterance of okay, sinking back down until his head is cooled by the denfloor. kukutux asks of moontide. maybe one day. i don't know.
he didn't think he could bear the scent of the ocean again. he finds himself craving the bittersweet of poppy seeds, and how quickly they could drag him back to blissful nothingness if he had some.