Samus lowered her head, watching the change in Niviaq with curious mahogany eyes. In these moments she, too, became sobered, as the old woman expressed her gratitude. She chuckled, but it was a humorless sound, perhaps more embarrassed and flustered than anything else. "It's my pleasure." She replied simply, her tones quiet, ruminative. The masked woman certainly hadn't expected their conversation to turn in such a way, but she wasn't displeased. She had come seeking Niviaq's blessing, but would come away with something much more meaningful than that. There was a moment of introspective silence between them, and Samus found herself picturing her and Sila growing together like a vine twisting towards the sun. Like they had danced at the ball, she wanted them to both live together in tandem-- separate, but together.

There was a small, ugly piece of her heart, however, that doubted if Sila herself would want such a thing. But perhaps it was overshadowed by the overwhelming love she felt for the honey-eyed woman, and if her words at the ball had meant anything then she supposed it was meant to be. Samus gave Niviaq a toothy grin, one that was genuine and ecstatic and reserved only for those with a special place among her memories. "We'll both think of ya with every sunrise and every spring bloom." Her words were resolute, kind but firm-- no matter what, the woman before her would be remembered. Samus wasn't sure what happened to a wolf after they closed their eyes for the last time, but she thought it only fitting that Niviaq be immortalized in nature's beauty.

It was not an easy thing, to discuss what might happen after one's death. "Hopefully it won't seem so long." She replied, laughing along with Niviaq. The sound carried through the forest, ringing out through the peaks-- despite the somberness of their earlier words, there was a hopeful lilt to what she had just said. "I wish we'd gotten more time ta' know each other, miss Niviaq."