[ It does feel like a home. More than the fortress he seems to slowly be able to build in his mind. Or was it a monastery? That place that smelled of pine needles, incense, and sweat in his oldest remaining memories, what tatters of them remain. ]
You've always seemed so sure of your place in the world.
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You've always seemed so sure of your place in the world.
[ Maybe that's why the dog sought him out.
Or maybe it is just the bones. ]
The memory of someone. The pain of losing them.