How strange, that weakness could manifest in so many cruel and unseen ways. He never would have suspected her of any ailment had he not stumbled across her like this. Nen'tah took Fa'liya's explanation solemnly, his expression flickering between that of confusion and concern; whatever the case, it hadn't seemed to stop her from surviving the March.

She bore her situation well, he thought.

Oh.

That was all he said. Still, he studied her with renewed interest, wondering whether she vomited after every meal, whether it hindered her on the hunt, whether it ever caused her pain. He had a great many questions, all of them drifting together in a vague cloud of wanting to know, but he thought of Iglux and Cen and remembered their stoic, unintrusive nature, and how he wished so much to be like them.

So he quelled his thoughts, unconsciously mirroring her pose as he sat back on his little haunches and stared.

Strong anyway, Nen'tah said after a long pause, and nodded his head as if to affirm the statement. Still here.