Her words exposed her ignorance. The level of oblivion that she must be living in - or had been living in, as the case may be. Njal had no knowledge of the life she had come from prior to living in the wilds, only that her body had once been a malleable mound of mud, and he had shaped it. The man was proud of her for coming this far, proud of himself - selfishly so, perhaps - and was not willing to pack down or let her break away from him just yet. Her question, although slow to emerge and muted in it's manner, caught him by surprise.
“…can you be certain our friendship would not cause you trouble?”
"Nuata." Njal caught her name falling from his lips before he could stop himself - and more importantly, he moved to intercept her, but caught control of his body before anything dire could happen. He was face to face with her and closer than before, which was in itself a dangerous situation. "If anything, our friendship could help both of our packs. Maybe they'll learn to get along as well as we do." It was doubtful, but at this point Njal was grasping. He did not want to lose her, for reasons he couldn't at this point understand. It was more than her friendship that he craved, more than the training that he valued, but these things could not be put in to words. They couldn't be formed in to concious thoughts, leaving him a bit confused by how forward he was behaving.
But, he hoped his words were enough for her.