Sun Mote Copse They say that wealth is revealed in the teeth

She wasn't sure she could imagine Finley being weak. Even if she was starving, ill and weak, she could still only ever imagine Finley with her iron-will and sharp wit, ready to either shrug and welcome death without sobbing or being scared, or to fight it off without hardly raising a finger. Her ears turned back as Finley turned her face, and Niamh first thought she ought to look away. Even when approached from that side, Finley had never given Niamh more than a brief glance at that side of her face, and she'd seen only enough to know that Finley's face was terribly scarred, and that she did not care of have others see it. After a moment, though, she slowly lifted her gaze, to see the scars that marred the side of her face. Niamh had thought that her own scars were pretty badass- but Finley had clearly been through much more than one incident, to collect those scars. 

Niamh couldn't help but expell a smal breath of air when Finley detailed what had happened. Smacked in the face by a porcupine? She must've been young and stupid, then...Though it was something Niamh herself had done, though it hadn't left much for marks on her. She was stunned to hear that Finley had tried to ditch Elwood and Eljay, but chose not to comment. Finley was telling her things she didn't figure that she told to many wolves, so she'd keep her comments to herself- and she'd have to keep these stories to herself too. That much she could do, for such a kind gesture. 

Niamh offered a small, somewhat trembling smile. "I....I bet," She agreed. "I mean...You know what I mean. I think...You ended up with something pretty great." Of course, she wanted very much to gush about how much she absolutely ADORED Elwood, but such things simply went without needing to be articulated. Who didn't love Elwood? "An' you're gonna have more awesomeness soon...When're...When're you due?" She asked, hoping that she might be able to find some sort of reference for herself, based on Finley's experience.