[ Amos has been missing space for a while now. It's not so much space itself he misses but the fact that the only time he's really felt like he's somewhere he belongs has been when he's up the gravity well. Probably why he'd shaped his domain the way he had when they were without memories in the Horizon. And he still wishes he could go back up, even though the space surrounding this planet is probably meaningless, but he kind of wants to show Himeka what it's like, too. It's easier to understand when you're actually there.

Not that he has a problem with her questions, it's just kinda hard to explain the sheer nothingness. ]

Stars are just big balls of gas, really. I guess there are solar winds, but it's not exactly the kind of thing you'd ride. The radiation would do a number on you. You gotta make your own fuel. Can't rely on anything out there but yourself and your ship and your crew.

[ The metaphor of relying on yourself and making your own way — the way he goes through life, basically — is lost on him. That's just how life is in space, and it's good enough for him. Maybe at some point he'll figure out it translates to what he does down here, too; maybe not. First they've just gotta. Not be here.

Her tail's movement catches his eye — she's the first... person? Being? he's ever met who has one. Back to her face just as quickly. He likes seeing her smile, likes that she's in a good mood. That she agrees with him. ]

You wanna go back up north? I feel like I've been around the cold and the snow long enough for a lifetime. [ His tone is almost playful; it's just he can't quite shake the part where they're in prison. Wishes he could believe in her optimism. ]