It's an effort to force herself up that little bit, a hiss of pain she keeps low and to herself. She has no business expressing pain when she is the one that cannot die. Her head hangs, the loose mess of hair falling over her face and it makes it easy to smile even so, tucked away. "Perhaps not my life, but my humanity certainly."

A dig, how much he means to her is palpable, sometimes, something everyone else sees, certainly. "Or are you going to stubborn about my attempt to give you my thanks?"