We keep walking until there's a small rise of ground in front of us. Acorn slowly trudges up the tiny hill and sits down at the top, curling his tail around his paws. He lets out a shaky breath and I watch him.

What's he doing?

Then I notice it's a grave. It's dirt, unlike the grass around it, which really gives it away.

But ... who's? And why does my father care so much?