Initially, the Haruspex occupied himself by trying to consider how he should respond to his lady's outburst. He wouldn't call it hysterics, for she seemed quite controlled, but there was something purely instinctive about the matter. As she continued, he realized it was pointless to form ideas before she'd finished any--and so, he settled in to listen.

But he wanted to interrupt.

She spoke of a cruelty that she possessed and he had never before seen. She talked of pasts she had lived (surely before his time here,) and the mother she'd once had. But what did it matter? The whole time, through her confession, all he could wonder was why.

She spoke of daughters he didn't know she had. She spoke of tearing others like him apart--as if she wanted to do the same to him. But Ashamin doubted it, he could not see the same evil in her that she apparently saw in herself. What had made her feel this way? Who had told her she was as cruel as this, and made her believe it? Either she was more easily swayed than Ashamin had ever expected, or she'd faced a powerful liar--a golden one, maybe.

When she at last addressed her power, Ashamin's round ears turned inwards and perked. Her expression was... he wasn't sure. Desolate, maybe? Desperate? But as he watched her shake her head and give out her last exhalation, air her last guilt, he felt his chest grow tight.

The haruspex felt full. He felt full of air, of being, perhaps of all the things she'd just pronounced with such imperative. Was this how Hotaru always felt, then? Was she unloading her burden, carrying it tiredly over to rest upon Ashamin's own awkward back, and leaving her troubles to his whim?

Why was she coming to him? The buck felt as though he hardly knew her, as if he was not worthy of her speech. Then again, didn't she too feel she was unworthy?

He considered his position, and the electricity that had covered him like a blanket at the herd's last meeting. No, he wasn't unworthy. He had been chosen, and so had she.

"None of that matters," he said, trying not to sound as dismissive as he felt. "And whatever the root of your intention, whatever the poison you believe it stemmed from, you have done nothing but good for this herd. This herd chose you--this herd decided it deserved you, not the other way around."

He stepped closer to the fire, to the point where Lochan started as the heat travelled through their bond. The companion flashed an image of it to his bonded, a brightly scribbled mass of red, yellow, and orange. But Ashamin wouldn't be burned--as he reached over the flames to extend his cheek towards Hotaru's, he feared nothing.

"It's not up to your past to determine your future, and it's not up to you to determine your worth. All you have is the fact of your appointment, and the understanding that comes with that. The Aurora Basin finds you to have good intent, they trust you," Ashamin said quietly, the crackle of the flames bursting beneath every word. "You have to trust them, too."