Kili had put up quite the protest. Even as a child, he would insist he was fine when he clearly was not. 
After much difficulty, he caved and allowed his godmother to help him. It wasn't that Kili didn't trust her, he was simply too prideful to admit he was injured. 
"It doesn't hurt so much anymore, I can walk," he told her lowly, his eyes settled on Bard and the others conversing. Hopefully this man would help them.

"We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains journeying to see our kin in the Iron Hills.” Balin promised, polite and collected as he often was.
Thorin followed his lead. Bard may have been their only hope at crossing the river, and their only hope to obtain what was so desperately needed. 
“We’ll need food, supplies, weapons. Can you help us?”