Meadowlark Prairie but it's sinking

She spoke and he just sort of stared at her for a moment. The scar that sliced half her face seemed to withdraw from the canvas of her pale, perfect face. It was shifting in the corner of his eye, curling and fading like an ink stain in reverse. He found himself huffing softly — laughing — and then realized what she had been asking and clued in. He shrugged, because honestly Mou had no idea what he was capable of. He had no memory of ever hunting or doing anything helpful at any point in his life — but he had been vomited up from the sea, so maybe he had been a master hunter in a past life.

That thought made him giggle again in that airy, strange manner. He staggered around her and began to sniff the earth, trying to do what he thought a hunter would do to find a target, but he could only smell the damp soil and Maegi. Before long he was engrossed in the game of sniff-and-walk, and had forgotten all about the request.