[ Instinctively her body leans into his touch, seeking out warmth that is far more comforting than the heat of the Nether. Despite that she still can't help the protests that are ready on the tip of her tongue, notched like an arrow on a bow - that it's easy for him to say that now, but when he and Claude eventually figured out whatever it was they were doing, her presence, the worries she claims never to have, would eventually become bothersome. Her whiny, selfish brattiness would only serve to be an annoyance after she had ground away their good graces.

But when his hand falls limply to his lap, so do her protests.

To hear that the Lions didn't know the full picture is surprising - but is it really? Hilda had always seen them from afar, prim, proper - so Faerghan - but she had always assumed that they had been as supportive even if they might not have been as warm as the Deer had been. She's quick to gather his hand in hers, cupping them as if they would bring comfort when they weren't the hands he wanted to hold. ]

Well, I am friends with Claude. Not knowing where to start and not knowing things - [ Her lips lift slightly, humourlessly, skating over her own insecurities and raw wound. ] is something I'm used to. And Claude has enough patience for the both of us so even a convoluted start is better than not talking about it.

Like you said I don't know what you went through. And I know it's probably painful and difficult to think and talk about. But I just... [ She draws in a breath, hesitating as she gives his hand a squeeze. ] want you to know that we're here too. I hope that you give talking to Claude a chance.