[What is that supposed to mean? Fenris looks at him oddly, expression tinged with more suspicion, although a part of him responds to the sentiment. Moving on from the past... isn't that what he's striven to do in these last several years? And is still struggling against each day. He looks down at his feet, mouth pressed in a tight line.]

You care a great deal for my opinion simply because I am an elf, and I won't claim to understand that. But I will not make you tell me. There are a number of things I would rather not share of my own past.

[Things he was made to do, emotions he was made to feel. He's familiar with shame.]

Though I imagine this place cares little for what we want.