She watched the changes in his expression carefully, revelation lingering shortly before his expression closed infinitesimally. The shift was not lost on her and Miskwaa had but a moment to ponder this before the explanation came: Miika. The original explanation would have been satisfying enough, but the pause and then the admission caused her to stiffen. Talk of their past, of their family had such an effect on her that was only amplified by the guilt brought on by his arrival. There were parts of her tale that caused her chest to puff up with pride, shoulders set and chin raised defiantly... And the bridges she had burned and the loved ones she had abandoned were not such parts. Her preference to not talk about such collateral damage was clear in the sudden hard, stern set of her face.

But equal parts guilt and obligation tore at her conscience and Miskwaa could not simply dodge the subject entirely. Oh, how she wished to! Avoidance was far easier than dealing with problems of the heart and soul head-on, and yet for Ziigwan? She owed him as much, not for just his loyalty but his unconditional love. “She never mentioned it... What a silly thing to be afraid of.” Her tone was lacking in the usual directness; instead, it was somewhat quiet, pensive, distant. “It's odd. I grew up admiring you all, believing that you and Miika and my parents had it all figured out... And now I realize that perhaps you weren't much better off than I am now.” With that admittance, her muzzle swung slowly away from his face so she could scan the dark woods surrounding them. Her jaw was set, muscles tight with molten gold eyes flickering vigilantly about: she was in that moment a paragon of strength, compensating for the candid weakness that she had just shown him. 

His attempts to conceal his small internal struggle were in vain, of course. She saw right through it, and he could see as her expression hardened almost to mirror his own - particularly when his explanation came. Perhaps he should have thought of something else, something to keep with the whimsical tone. But this felt right, in a way - all this time they had both avoided the topic, both pretended there was nothing to discuss. At least now they could broach it in the midst of something happier, and they didn't need to really talk too much about it anyway - both of their actions explained their stances fully.

He did regret the slight topic change, though, for the awkwardness it may bring Miskwaa in trying to respond to such a delicate topic, but she handled it with grace. He smiled at her diplomatic tone, at the effort she was making. And as she spoke further, the sentiment something he already knew but had never heard her say out loud, he could not help but smile at her, at her admission of weakness coupled with her display of confidence. In that moment, they had shared all they needed to on the matter. Tail sweeping slowly behind him, his grey ears lifted in mischief, and he leaned forward to plant a swift, wet kiss on her blood-speckled nose.

"Well, I wouldn't quite say that," he grinned, glancing pointedly at the porcupine which still sat in the tree with its shining black eyes.

While Miskwaa could avert her gaze, she could not evade him completely: he planted a small kiss on her snout, retreating just as she turned to face him. The surprise softened her features, brows raising in confusion as her ears pulled back. She was about to question him when he countered her statement and her attention followed his to the porcupine in the canopy of the trees. She huffed, blatantly unamused and perhaps even irritated, brows now pushing together. “You all were probably just as bad at times, if not worse!” Miskwaa spoke indignantly, her words a firm protest to his mocking as she began to move in the direction of the knoll of flowers they now called home. While she was aware that the joke was said with a light heart, Miskwaa was rarely content to be the butt of a joke, especially one so humiliating as this. She would never live it down, she was sure, not with Ziigwan around to remind her of it for the rest of her life...

But wasn't that what family was for? They could be irritating, certainly, but true family would be there until the end to remind you of your greatest moments and your silliest shortcomings. Ziigwan was many things to her — guardian, mentor, friend, ally — but above all else he was family in the truest, most genuine sense of the word. And so the agitation faded, her expression slowly softening to take on a pensive quality. Few would ever have their family's loyalty tested in such a way that Ziigwan's had; even fewer would find a happy ending at such a trial. Yet here they stood, united in the darkness, strangers to this land yet comfortable enough in one another's presence.

She stopped now, turning her head so as to look him in the eye and say, “Thank you, uncle, for following me. It... may have been better for you to stay with them, but I'm glad you're here all the same.” Miskwaa spoke with a directness not uncommon to her; the oddity in her words was the emotional content, which she seemed to so often be lacking in. It was made clear with these words that she wanted him, needed him by her side just as much as she had all those years ago — to support her, guide her, and encourage her. And though she would not say as much aloud, the stony creature could not help but think to herself, 'I love you' — and the three words made her feel small, a very common feeling on this very peculiar night. And so she started walking again, uncomfortable with the satisfied warmth in the pit of her stomach and the lightness in her limbs that came with feelings of security.

Finally the well-meaning provocation went a little too far; Ziigwan withdrew slightly as she snapped, ears pulling back and tail curling under. This hadn't been his intention. She moved away, and he hesitated for a moment before starting after her. Her limits had been thoroughly tested, it seemed, and now he had a better idea where her boundaries lay. He also was beginning to get a feel for what her danger buttons were.

He chose to say nothing at first, for an appropriate defusing comment was alluding him, and he was determined not to make it worse. His instinct with her , whose name he still could not quite say, would have been to continue the jest, but softer, but would that apply here? The dynamic was different, different to his mate and different to how he and Miskwaa had existed before, and his instincts were all wrong.

Then she stopped, and he stopped as though running into a brick wall, but the look on her face was not of anger. It was hard to read, but there was something gentler there than what had laced her words just moments before. Thank you," she said, and Ziigwan melted, proud to have witnessed her take control of her emotions so closely, wondering what had gone through her mind in those seconds. He did not have to wonder hard; her words explained it fully, the apology and gratitude laid plain for him to see. Out of respect for his stoic niece, he remained silent, falling quickly in step with her when she continued the pace. Though he brought himself shoulder to shoulder, he let his response to her be communicated by simply nudging his nose under her chin briefly as they moved, accepting the apology and expressing his own devotion to her. He had accepted that this was his life now, that she was his life now, and she should not fear that he was by her side always. He had chosen this, the most difficult path, as the correct one, and did not regret it.