Laughter rang in his ears as his lips eagerly searched for what was not there. His ears flattened, trying to hide the sound which came at his expense. Lena rebuked him and his head jerked away, dismayed and confused. He took a few steps back, wagging tail slowing, red gaze turning to fasten upon the auburn one she wore. She was kind in her refusal, but it was rejection all the same and it stung him in a way he was not familiar with. He could do nothing but stare at her, unsure how to react - mother had always let him suckle.

Mother he thought with a sudden pang of nostalgia and lost love. Though Lena was comforting, boys would always love their mothers. She was familiar at least, and he was sure that she would let him drink.

"Grass," he tried the word, the sound coming off awkward and syllables stressed incorrectly. He wrinkled up his nose at the sound, wondering if it tasted as poorly as it spoke. Mother had eaten it though... he remembered her always searching for it, especially here in this northern kingdom that wore its white covering. If she had eaten it, he could too. Not much could match milk in his opinion though, except perhaps, souls.

With his thoughts still tumbling over one another Öde only caught Lena's retreat in the corner of his eyes. His head jerked around suddenly, and though she had not gone more than a few steps he let out a mournful squeal and raced after her, tripping several times before roughly colliding with her hind end. His legs still weren't quite under control. Snorting in embarrassment he shook himself off and traipsed at her side, frequently bumping against her as he moved off rhythm with her strides.

As he walked his eyes focused on the stray tail of her fox, reminded of its laughter. Öde grew rueful, but the beast was safe upon her withers and her questions kept him occupied. Her final one was harder than all the others to answer though. For a long while moment the scrawny boy considered what exactly she meant. He'd never really had a home, not a permanent one. Mother had kept them moving often - he took that as meaning they owned everywhere that they stepped. Of course they spent the most time around here, his birthplace, the kingdom of snow and ice. He was surprised actually that it still existed, last he knew darkness had enveloped it, and him.

Maybe she meant where was his mother? Of all the places they had roamed she had been the constant, the dark pillars of her legs his arches to frolic under. Her chest, his roof to shelter under. Her sides, his pillows to slumber against. If anything had been home to him, it had surely been her and she was, "gone."

It was all he said on the matter.