Hideaway Strath in the old days, there was enough

"Ah," the sylph soughed quietly in understanding. "Zey 'ave a 'abit of doing zat -- taking in strays," Aerin murmured, smiling kindly so he would know it was only a jest. She had been one such stray herself once -- even if it had been a more dire situation, and it was Kynareth and Derg who saved her in place of Nyra. At his next words, the silver of her gaze wavered, dropping to the earth as a pit of anxiety began to form in her stomach -- one of her small paws scuffing lightly at the dirt. 

She had spoken to no one about her past aside from Reiko and Kynareth, keeping all the sordid details well wrapped up and stashed out of sight and out of mind -- mostly. She knew this was unhealthy, knew well that she should speak to someone about the things her life had seen -- a professional, like Patroclus -- but it suddenly felt extremely difficult when presented with the opportunity. Try as she might to begin, her lips wouldn't separate and the words wouldn't come, the timid fae finding it almost impossible to speak of such things, especially with a man -- even one as nice as the compassionate Underling before her.

"I suppose I might be a good subject fer such a thing," the halfling finally managed after a moment, a quiver of repressed nerves causing her hushed tones to hitch halfway through. The midwife's throat bobbed in a swallow as she tried to maintain a steady composure, offering him a single wag of her tail accompanied by a vaguely anxious smile to reassure the Counselor -- trying to put on a brave face and not look utterly terrified.