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.