Even though Tomen considered he and Nineva to be close, very close, he rapidly learnt just how little he knew about the pretty grey girl in front of him. How had he not even bothered to seriously wonder about her last name? Well, no, that was easily answered, the exact same way that every other how-had-he-never was answered; it was her business and not his. In the early days, she and her uncle had been newcomers to be welcomed and treated gently, because losing family was hard - or so he had done his best to understand it, having experienced very little worth grieving over at that point in his life. Not wanting to press Nineva on a delicate topic when it wasn't his place, the precedent had been set. Even as they spent more and more time together, he never really stopped to ask those questions which had popped up and been quelled right at the beginning.
If she wanted to tell him, she would. And oh man, that time had actually come, and with a vengeance.
The first hint that the reality he'd constructed around Nineva wasn't entirely true came in the form of a present-tense verb, a small thing, but weren't dead people normally referred to with 'were' and not 'are'? Still, he said nothing, and would continue to not say a single word until she was finished, partly though good manners and partly because he had no idea how to respond anyway.
He'd heard of Whisper Caverns, sure, but had never had reason to make that connection between herself and that pack. Then she spoke about lying, and an ear twitched back, but he felt lost, struck by the distaste of a confessed falsehood and yet he wasn't entirely sure what she'd lied about? Something about her family dying - oh. Oh, right. And Kenelm had been in on it. That made sense.
Feeling largely numb, Tomen just watched her as she paused, though he didn't know why. He supposed that he'd expected some kind of secret or confession by the way she'd brought him out here but... this was something else. This was questioning the entire foundations of everything, but - but was it? As he waited for her to speak again, to gather her thoughts enough to carry on if she was going to (did she want him to respond? He had no idea what to say) he tried to process whether or not this really, honestly, truly changed anything.
He'd never asked her about it. She'd rarely spoken about her family, about much of anything before her time here in the cedarwoods. Even if she'd joined the pack under some false pretence and maintained that pretence... did that matter? She was still the same Nineva, with the same way of scrunching up her face when she concentrated, as proven by that very moment right there. She was the same, right? If she'd never lied about anything really important then, then... He dearly, dearly hoped she had not, his heart picking up in pace as he waited for her to speak again, afraid for the unknown that was yet to come spilling out of her mouth.
The only thing which mattered was not hearing anything resembling
you were never really my friend. He could surely forgive anything else. Surely nothing else really mattered.
It was a good thing he had that so singled out in his mind, because he found it hard to follow her story, her threads weaving together as they occurred to her and felt compelled to share them, everything he had never asked her coming out in one big truth bomb. But he didn't hear that terrible sentiment, so he just carried on listening, a ready vessel to be filled with all the secrets she had been hoarding. He didn't know why it was coming out now, why today rather than yesterday or tomorrow or next week, but as ever he would not question it; she thought it was important to say now, so it was. The thought that she had felt at all guilty for keeping this from him... In a way, he
was hurt that it had been so long, that she hadn't trusted him enough or liked him enough or thought him important enough or whatever her reason was for this timing - or maybe it was more to do with her, with her own shame and guilt and regret.
It was too much to try and come up with some clean answer for right that moment. It was enough just trying to understand the flow of the story she was telling. Dad and Veho knew, it turned out, and he didn't know how he felt about that. The longer he listened, the more his ability to process his own reaction was shutting down, overloaded, and he could only sit and listen.
That didn't stop a small, presumptuous and over-hopeful part of him from pre-emptively filling in the words 'because of you' when she said 'I still stayed hiding here because...', and of course the real reason was something completely different. He had to glance away for a moment, embarrassed. He soon locked eyes with her again, though, if only because she deserved to have this, this whatever-it-was given full attention, his own arrogant thoughts aside. Soon after, she stopped talking again, hanging her head, and it was several moments before he realised she was finished.
"Uh," was the first sound he was able to make, and honestly the only one - he felt strangely empty, despite being filled to the brim with new information, his capacity to really comprehend it all well exceeded. Was he hurt, angry or sad that she hadn't told him any of this before? He felt something, something uncomfortable and tight in his chest, but that wasn't any emotion he could decipher. Acutely aware that he needed to say something, anything, his jaws opened and closed a few times before he finally just did what he would normally do if Nineva looked sad and vulnerable.
Shifting forwards, he rubbed his cheek against hers, moving smoothly to tuck his neck over her and press his chin into that soft spot between her shoulder blades, feeling her warmth and filling his head with her scent. She was the same Nineva, exactly the same, and he couldn't bear to just stand by while she hurt. He didn't have the words to come close to matching her own... so this was the best he could do. It didn't feel good enough.