Elva had told her he had been confused, so Kire waited to see if he recognized her, or even knew or understood what she had said. When he snapped, she almost thought he had meant it for her, but then she felt Ysaryn briefly behind her before the elf walked away. Kire expected him to tell her the same. 

Instead, he extended his hand to her, and pleaded. His words stung; she didn't know how to help him, even though she wanted so badly to take his pain and confusion away. He was almost like a child in this state, fearful, alone, needing comfort. With a sigh she stood and walked over closer to him, then, after a pause to think it over, carefully lay down, pressing her cheek against the stone floor, facing him. She took his hand in her scarred one, squeezing gently.

"I'm here," she murmured. Gods, she could feel how badly his body trembled. She wasn't sure what else to say, if explaining where he was or who she was would only confuse him. All she could do was offer comfort.