The desert stretched under a blanket of stars. Boothill and Anon sat on a hill, gazing at the sky. Boothill pointed out the Hunter’s star, reminiscing about his home planet, Aeragan-Epharshel, and simpler times spent stargazing. He described lying on the grass, playing music under the stars. Now, as a being of steel and wires, he feels the cold absence of emotion and longs for home, sighing, “Suddenly got a hankerin’ for home. Ain’t that somethin’? They say a man ain’t supposed to outlive his home. But here I am, a relic of a world that’s long gone.”