Starglow Basin desorden

the word did not answer her questions. not fully, anyway. the word in her mother tongue would be nemiche, and this was different enough that she did not comprehend. but the way he spat it out; the look upon his face—

soto dug. she scuffed her own forepaw upon the desert surface, tapered face contorted in question.

perché? she asked again, licking her dry lips.

she's not used to this dry environment, and it was already wearing down upon her. in the lands of di fiamma, mountain springs were plentiful. greenery was omnipresent. and even in the winter, the snow could be savored. . .

perché qui? she tried, leveling a cool blue stare upon soto.