Animals don't - they trust.

[ And most people are okay, really. Most people just want to live their lives and maybe they're selfish, sure, but they aren't cruel. Not on purpose. But bad things still happen and there's something wrong in this place. In the soil, maybe. Down in the bones. Abby rocks unhappily, trying to suss it out. Find the words, the edges of the picture, trying to explain it to himself. But he can't ask the dead. They're here - how could they not be? - but he can't hear them.

Bad things happen, sometimes. ]

I couldn't keep dogs, before. [ A confession of his own - or maybe just a secret. There's something in the air that begs them now. Something that calls for the truth. Abby bows his head, rubbing Jenny's ears. ] My uncle hates them. He's afraid so he - mhmm. Hates them.

[ Abby shakes his head. He doesn't tell people about his uncle. If they know one thing, then they want to know the rest, and then they want to know what it means to weave true resurrection and not the stitching that Abby does. They want to know the cost and he'd have to tell them, wouldn't he? ]

I don't - mhmm. Go far. Here. But I've been - bad places.