It's a lot, but it can stay in its box. Why unpack before you've moved in? There's no need for them to share those wounds, no need for any more than a passing comment at this stage, a nod of I understand. Sometimes that's all you need, a little squeeze of the soul to say you aren't alone with the thoughts and the pain.

He notices the slight tension that goes through her shoulders and doesn't press the point, let the moment pass and ease into nothing again, let it ease before it causes more upset.

Her question is a good one- he assumed she would go for a more personal, more usual question, something about him, but perhaps the question she actually asks will tell her far more than asking about hobbies and living situations and all the rest of it. He can answer it too, and perhaps far more easily than he could tell him facts and figures about himself at the moment- he's still struggling with the memories of being a young man here, less than a month ago, and being a man in his forties that has lived a full life elsewhere.

"I'm trying to speak to as many as I can. We went through something terrible down there. Even the ones who walked or limped out, the experience leaves scars. I wanted to make sure everyone who needed it had the chance to talk. And, I suppose for myself? It's cathartic."