Phantom Hollow It's been a little cold and not outside

Her eyebrows lifted. Your forest? she questioned. You have your own forest? She wondered if it was similar to how mom and Mahler always said the mountains were theirs. Well not anymore. They wanted to leave, she heard them talking about it. So maybe thinking something was yours didn't always mean it was actually yours. She hadn't seen or scented a rabbit, but then she hadn't really been paying attention to whether or not there was any prey around. Food was scarce, and she had pretty much just accepted that she would be hungry most of the time. Oh, well, I didn't see it. She glanced around, his implication that things disappeared here making her a little nervous.

At his question, she shrugged and turned her focus to a rotting stick on the ground, pushing it around absently with her front paw. I don't know, she offered after a moment. It wasn't like she was going to tell him her life story or anything. Or about all the shit that had happened, which be the only way to explain why she was here in this weird forest with no plan or direction. I just...don't want to be at home anymore, she added, keeping her focus on the stick, watching as the end disintegrated beneath the weight of her paw. The thought of returning to Diaspora made her want to run even farther in the opposite direction.