It's not the kind of conversation that Kurt would have preferred take place when Fern is already feeling emotionally and physically weakened, but he doesn't want to stop his young friend from unburdening himself of something that's clearly been sitting with him for a long time. He stays silent, absorbing the sight of Fern's shapeshifting with little visible surprise, able to easily put together the unspoken implications of what Fern did.

The fact that he's heard far worse confessions is, he knows, not necessarily a good thing. The scale for these things is subjective; this is clearly something that Fern regrets deeply, even if Kurt himself isn't especially phased by it. Not when he's come so close to committing similar acts, and has forgiven far worse in others.

Wordlessly, Kurt reaches out to put an arm around Fern's shoulders, a familiar physical reminder of his support.

"Fern," he begins gently, "you've been through a lot. Not just recently. But in your life, you've had to deal with so many things, hard things, and you haven't had anyone to guide you. But you clearly regret what you did, ja? And that regret shows that you are a good person, even if it doesn't always feel like it. I see that good person in you, Fern." He gently rubs the grass shoulder under his palm. "I believe in him."