Kili was surprised that Thorin had helped. While he did not believe his uncle to be heartless by any means, Kili knew how Thorin felt towards elves. This was progress, and it was his hope that the two could become friends.
As they helped Saeril inside, Kili sat next to her, his expression troubled. "Is there a gash?" If there was, he wanted to at least tie a makeshift bandage around it. "Oin! Can you come help us?"
Bilbo looked on in concern. Their journey had taken a dangerous turn, and he started to miss Rivendell even more than he had.
For once, Oin heard. The older dwarf's hearing was not the best, but the cave helped amplify sound. "What seems to be the problem?"

Gloin dropped down a pile of kindling he'd gathered. “Right then! Let’s get a fire started.” 
Thorin shook his head, then tossed aside his sword. “No. No fires, not in this place. Get some sleep. We start at first light.”
Balin looked to his king, troubled by this news. “We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan.”
Thorin sat himself down, jaw set. “Plans change. Bofur, take the first watch."