Kisla's whole body was shaking violently, Triell and Serach seemingly serving as her sole support. Confused as he was, the pale man did not move or pull away as she sobbed into his fur. He wanted to look to Triell and try and silently ask what was happening and the cause for the sudden fusillade of tears, but all he could see was the mesh of fur as they leaned against one another in a wolfish embrace. His heart was breaking for her, and more than anything Serach wished he could strike back against the world and demand it make amends for whatever wrongs it had committed against his beloved sister.

Slowly, her tawny shoulders shook less and her breathing less frantic. She pulled back from them and Serach nearly whined, wanting to pull her back in. But he held himself back and instead met her sad green eyes. Her words were like a punch to the gut and he averted his gaze to his own paws out of both a sense of respect for her grief and his own confused feelings. He had met the Baranski man only once - when his sister had returned home after having been separated from them for the winter - and it had fallen to Serach to tell her that their mother was dead and Fenru had also left the Bend. It was not a good memory for Serach, but he did remember with some clarity how Kisla had sought out Maksim for support and comfort. As for her children, well, it was a regret of Serach's that he had never had a real opportunity to get to know his nieces and nephews.

"I am so sorry, Kisla," he said quietly, looking up to face her again. "Of course you can stay with us. Always, for however long you may need." That was his decision to make now, wasn't it? He felt terrible for having been so excited to tell her about something so trivial when she was struggling to tell them something so important.