There was a curiosity in her deep brown eyes as she awaited the outpouring of emotion that tended to come following such words as she had spoken. Her ears pricked forward, ever the active listener, as Sila told her of the circumstances of her birth. It was the age of her mother that followed that caused Samus to falter in her attentiveness-- they had been born the same spring, and that must mean Niviaq was terribly old by now. She could see it in the face of her mother too, the solemnity that came with aging. Not many made it to such an old age, Moladion beset with sickness and war as it were. "I see." She replied softly, as if the weight of the words was too much to bear. Dealing with the death of another was one thing, but it was a different matter entirely when death was encroaching on somebody you loved. There was no sickness, no suffering, just the knowledge that no one could live forever.

Samus wished she could take the sadness from the woman in front of her, squirrel it away into some hole and forget about it. She'd even suffer through it herself, if it could mean that Sila's eyes wouldn't hold that deep melancholy. Although they were the same age, Sila seemed almost... too young for such things. A flower, perhaps, only half-bloomed. "Ya have a lot ta be sad about, Sila. It's... it's okay to feel sad. Ya don't have to push it away. The strongest wolves... they're the ones who let themselves fully feel sadness and despair but persist despite it all." Samus hesitated for a moment, the white mask splayed across her face creasing in thought. Even if she could not take it all away, she would not let Sila go through this alone. She would be okay with the attention being on somebody else. And that was strange in and of itself.

She moved towards her companion, gently reaching down to nuzzle her cheek. It was a simple, comforting gesture-- but she was surprised when Sila clung to her, as if she were a lifeline, a tether. Despite the sorrow in their words she smiled, for a brief moment. It gave her next words a little twinge of hope, if nothing else. "Because... they know that if they look past tha' sadness, there's so much more ta be happy about. It's hidden, but it's there. I... I don't know yer mother, nor yer father, but if they raised ya I can't see them ever wanting you ta wallow in those feelings." Samus hesitated again, shifting against the body of the other-- not uncomfortable, but nervous.

"So... instead, ya do great things. And ya appreciate the joy that's already here. Smell the mountain air on a spring morning. Watch pups play in the valley. Love this bastard world with yer whole heart. Spread knowledge. Yer actions and words, that's how you keep 'em alive. That's how ya turn sadness into something good."