[ Then, that's the real reason behind this oft-mentioned "journey." It's no small wonder the sort of state he was in when he arrived... nor the despondency and apathy he carried with him like a burden. Gently as she can, she takes both of his hands, her touch feather light and cool. ]

You did the right thing, walking away. Even if that meant being alone...

[ It takes a certain kind of strength to walk forward without any hope of companionship or trust at his side. She admires him even more, now, knowing the shape of his gentle sensitivity. How could anyone trample on that so carelessly? Her heart hurts. She keeps her gaze low, at the loose hold on his hands — how hard it must be for him to let anybody close, now. She won't take that for granted ever again. ]

I'm not happy it happened, but I'm glad taking this path led you to us. [ One of her thumbs strokes the back of his hand gently, almost tentatively, like she's ready for him to pull away at any second. ] No compatriot who really cared for you... would ever think to use and hurt you like that.

[ She can't imagine any of their number stooping to do something so cruel. Could he believe that? Believe that he was undeserving of such a heartless act? ]

And of course there might be things you feel remorse about from back then... but I hope that you wouldn't feel ashamed. For having been led astray.