...no? I can trust you with something and still tell you about it in a way that's not upsetting or demanding, that's just basic decency.

Not with me, feels like being managed. I won't feel upset or demanded. 

She thinks about it.

I'm not comfortable trying to figure out how to do that in a situation where you might not feel safe telling me to stop if I go too far the other way. But if there are specific things you want me to do or not do, I can try.

I would like to know how to act so you don't feel the need to apologize for your grief or panic.

She shrugs. Get well. The problem there isn't how you act or don't, it's that if I'm hurting you you can't get away from it.

But that's the thing, I can, if you didn't lie about the suicide spell.

She stares at him, then sighs. I didn't. That doesn't count.

It does. It definitely does.

Deep breath. Focus on this, don't think about that.

I get what you're saying, but I'm thinking on an entirely different scale, here. I'm not going to do anything that that'd be a reasonable response to. I want you to have options for dealing with things you don't like besides 'put up with it' and 'literally die'.

Oh. Well, for those there's 'get you to stop'. I don't want to get you to stop grieving or being shaken or having needs. 

Well that's a fairly disturbing angle on the thing. She doesn't quite manage to stop herself from remembering what it's like to believe she isn't a person and therefore isn't allowed to do those things, but it's only for a moment; a painful full-body twitch drags her back to the present.

Okay.

Thank you.

She only ate about half her lunch before she got distracted by the conversation; she finds that she's not hungry, now.

Do you need anything before I head back out?

I do not.

All right.

Back to the jungle. Kobolds aren't prone to screaming, or crying, or other loud displays; she does spend an hour curled up under a bush whimpering, though, before she gets back to work.

She treks carefully through the jungle, stopping occasionally to see what the wildlife thinks of likely-looking food plants or check for eggs in the trees or tubers underground; there turn out to be plenty of both, and she teleports a fraction of them back to her pantry.

Two hours after she left, she doesn't want to go back. Four hours after, she still doesn't. Five hours after, she makes herself.

He's sleeping, or acting as if he's sleeping.

She eats; she goes and spends a while preserving more meat. At sunset, she goes to activate the portal spell.

He opens his eyes and watches the sunset.

She stays. It's pretty obvious that she's not comfortable being near him, though.

Yeah, being asked not to apologize for her distress really upset her, and the explanation upset her even more. He can definitely do 'grateful for whatever she does' but she's probably working for the Enemy, he's not inclined to be so easily cued into being uncomplicated.

He will happily ignore her though if that's what she seems to want.

It is very much what she seems to want.

She does, very gradually, relax. A little. When the bulk of the sunset is over and the sky is starting to fade to black, she says, it turns out there are plenty of eggs in the warm place; let me know when you're ready for them.

Thank you. I can try whenever it's convenient.

Okay.

That was terrifying, earlier, and if you do it again I'm not sure I'm going to be able to be okay being around you.

Do what?

Her thoughts are an incoherent jumble for a few moments. The... threatening to... She takes a deep breath and sends a memory, instead: "for those there's 'get you to stop'... get you to stop grieving or being shaken or having needs"

She's huddled up again with her knees pressed to her chest, eyes closed, barely breathing, trembling.