He could recognize pain. On an objective level, Ishiah also knew that it would have been better to try and alleviate it in some way. What didn't come naturally to him, however, was any notion of how to apply a salve to her emotional wounds— every idea that he came up with was rejected, as clueless as Ishiah was about what Trixa would have taken positively, or what she would balk against. Hadn't she already thrown a knife in the general direction of his head, after all?

If she refused to help herself, or to allow others to help her, then Ishiah saw no point in simply presiding over her grief.

"I'll see myself out," he concluded in a quiet tone. "But if you can think of any feasible means for me to help, let me know."

I'm not going anywhere, he almost added, before realizing that it simply wasn't a promise he could make.