Memory was a funny thing, Niviaq knew. Some were born with it, some without it. Sometimes she lay awake thinking of what it might be like to simply not know about the past - she feared she might remember too much, was too able to conjure up emotions from the grave and yet, she was thankful for it too. When she saw Samus, she could recall watching the children during their first summer in Spirane, the girl's bandit-like mask a giveaway as they frolicked. She grinned at the memory, forced herself back to the real world with a small chuckle: "Nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to having different talents."

When Samus motioned to the prey, Niviaq almost blushed, a sheepish grin - she hoped the woman had not felt obliged to do such a thing just for her. She practically sighed in relief when Samus assured her that it had been to aid all of Spirane; rather than offended, one might say Niviaq was embarrassed by her own ineptitude even if it was simply nature's course. "Thank you, Samus. Would you mind if I took one back to my den? I find it takes me an almost embarrassing amount of time to get through a meal these days," there was always a humor in her voice, a stark comparison compared to the often serious, hushed tones her daughter seemed to speak in. If anybody was hoping to feel sorry for the old woman, she'd do her best to not give them a reason to do so. Instead, she merely settled into place and felt her grin grow as Samus seemed to squirm beneath her words. Ah, checkmate. If there was ever a wolf difficult to beat in a game of words, it was one who had watched relationships bloom and die over and over again for some two decades, no?

"You think so, Samus? I admit I have tried to raise all my children to be lovely but...I must confess that they do quite a bit of the work themselves," she had never been all too good at taking compliments, after all, but she was glad to hear it. In fact, she flushed much the same way as Samus beneath the spotlight of her attention. "I will have to find your parents and pass along my compliments too." She deflected, passing a glance back over to the cache of food Samus had gathered.

"I'm sorry to be so direct," and she truly was, bowing her head deep in apology after several moments, "but sometimes I fret that Sila has been living her life for me. I...want to be sure that she has something - or somebody - left after I am gone. I feel no need to pretend that I do not feel it - my time is limited. I must use what I have left to ensure a future for those I love." She paused, grinning though there was a sadness that crept into her eyes. "If I am being selfish, do not be afraid to tell me so. I can tell you care for Sila though. I have seen the two of you and, well, a woman my age knows." Her lips were taut then, if only to hold back anything else she might say. After all, she did not wish to overwhelm Samus. Already, she felt as if she had asked for too much.