Charlie has long learnt that in life, one gets better results by acting as if one already has permission. He nods to that question, his chin set.

"Uhh, yes, yes I am. I live here now and that shelf is mine." He points to the stack of shelves by the fireplace. There's several fistfuls of grass sitting in a lonely pile on one of them, his snack to stave off the need to wander out immediately to graze.

"This is your house?" He's staring back in full curiosity at the little boy, wondering how he's survived the pressure of the Sound Eaters. "How long have you lived here?"