[pressure] from Jecht!
She hadn't been to Nibelhiem since the incident; a lingering ghost hovered her shoulder that she could never quite look eye to eye with. Their travels had brought them far, a full loop coming to a close in exploring the past, the consequences. Yet seeing the village standing as if not a spark had wounded the place, Tifa froze in her tracks. She could feel the sweat form from her temple, and nerves twitched as she scanned the entry way.
She was ready to spin on her boot until she felt the gentle pressure of his hand against her back. A calming presence, a steadiness she wouldn't have if she were alone. Placing a hand to her chest, the monk leaned into his hand as she deeply inhaled. Tifa had explained the recollection of her old him over a fire recently; admittedly it had felt great to get it off her chest.
Ruby hues met his gaze and she swallowed hard before speaking. "Thank you for being here," her tone was soft, steady. "I promise after this, we'll seek out Zanarkind."
