That's leaving out some massive important details but when it boils down to it that's definitely the truth: worms ate it. And he watched it happen, rotting beside him in the dust. He's not disregarding the people around him there's just nothing that stands out as a threat right now, they're not interesting the way their adult versions were. Nobody's going to look at a wanted poster and then decide that grown man must be this sixteen year old, or that twelve year old. Not even humans made those kind of logic jumps.

It's safety, after a fashion, and he's been abusing it for a few months. "Uhhhh, that sounds like philosophy, and it's not really my favorite, but I bet we share a name." Hey it's a different topic and one he's happy to pounce on. If he ever figured out that telepathy thing maybe it'd be easier to hold a conversation, but for now this'll have to do! And then he doesn't have to try to hide the image of rotting people in the desert from a mind too young to see it. "...Where's home?"

It's almost automatic, the glance skyward. Ship five was home. Ship five burned and fell, and almost everyone in it died. "... I mean where exactly, not in the vague way of 'home is where the heart is' or stuff like that. One of the outskirt towns?"