Sunset Valley you are my sunshine, my only sunshine

her jaw twitched, like she wanted to answer quick, but nothing came. no home? no. not anymore. the word itself felt hollow in her mouth, so she didn’t say it. just shook her head once, small, sharp.

"no," she muttered, a little hoarse. again, her eyes pull away so he wouldn’t see the way her throat worked.

when she looked back, her mouth quirked—not quite a smile but close. tired at the edges, weary. "..s’good t’see you too." it was honest, at least. "sit with me?" she asks, swirling loose dirt between her paws into a pile—a pillow for her head.