"Not for a long time," he answered. A voice in the back of his head wondered what had happened to them. He could recall, vaguely, at least one parent, probably his mother, and perhaps some other balls of purple fur, but he didn't know when they'd disappeared. Perhaps they'd walked off, or died. Perhaps he'd eaten them. That seemed familiar.
"I had once, but I've been on my own as long as I can remember," he said. "No pack or companion to speak of."
"You know," he said, as though it had only just occured to him, "what with Venali running off, and everything, and you raising your daughter by yourself... that must be quite a strain on your family, isn't it? Though perhaps now that she's older, you're not so tied down."
