Sorry for your loss - it's me

Arne wasn't one for beating around the bush, unless they were actual bushes, he was too curious for his own good sometimes. Her question though, gave him pause, his tail ceasing in it's sweeping of the stone that radiated heat so nicely into his underside. "I've been lost plenty of times, but it never felt like this." He canted his head to the side, struggling to put his feelings into words. "Like, have y'ever watched leaves blowin' across the ground in autumn an' wondered if they know where they are going? Getting crunched up an' leaving bits of themselves behind an' wonderin' if they'll miss it? Kinda like that." His nose twitched and his nails scratched at the stone under his paws, trying to find something to tether him to here and now. He wasn't unhappy (it was questionable whether he had enough braincells in his head to feel unhappy), but he did feel restless, and uncertain. He didn't like it.

"speech".