The reaction clearly catches Jon off guard, and he blinks twice, owlishly. He can't imagine that something from one town could reach Cecil, so far away from the mortal world; then again, the Dread Fears reach here, even faintly. What type of place was Night Vale?

He won't ask, of course. He doesn't want to unintentionally pull that information past that barrier, to cause the pain of having something wrapped so tightly yanked out.

But he does furrow his brows, a mix of confusion and concern, and lowers his voice.

"I'm not sure what happened to you there, and I won't claim to know if what it is could reach you here. But..."

He weighs if he should offer. It could be seen as the olive branch he's offering, but it wouldn't be the first time someone's taken it as something much more sinister in intentions. At worst, he supposes that the grudge could come back. After the past few months, that's nothing new.

"If you cannot speak it, but struggle to bear the weight of it on your own, I could--- take it from you?" His offer comes with some stumbling, some fretting about coming off with purely intentions as an infovore, but he's clearly trying his best. "I won't unless directly and specifically asked, but... it's something I've done, before, with, um. Things that can't be said directly, for whatever reason. If this risk is too great, however, it won't be brought up again."

But he will wonder for a long, long time. That's neither here nor there, though.