She stills, hand lifting and hovering when he shifts. What does she expect to happen--that he'll fall over and she can catch him? He's in bed. But the reflex still stands, and it's a wonder it even occurs. Not many have tugged this side of her out; it's easier to keep their allies at a distance, after all.

"Thanking me," she hums, finally resting her palm on the mattress. She huffs. "That would mean I did something to warrant it."

She didn't protect him. She couldn't reach him.

"I've eaten." Jon's assuming he didn't die killing Kebechet lmao seen to that. "Worry less about me and more of yourself. I told you once before to take what you need."