She picked up her cup again, taking a breath to answer, and then stopped, looking at him. The pleasant expression slid from her face, replaced with something more neutral and considering. After a minute, her mouth quirked, and she said, “I help people, that’s all I meant. It’s what I’m for, it’s,” she shrugged uncomfortably, “all I’m good for.” She glanced down at her hands, entwined around the cup. Very quietly, she added, “What do you mean, /what/ am I?”
Isaac’s body was less stiff now and he was able to manoeuvre himself into a more comfortable position. He was still tucked under his blanket, holding on to all the warmth he could get. “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing…you’re a hero, y’know that? I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.” He suddenly trusted this girl; she was so innocent and kind-hearted. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his hands out of hiding, showing her his claws. “I mean…are you human?” he spoke calmly, flashing his yellow eyes at her.
Her mouth dropped open a little, before she snapped it shut. “I-I think a little more than you?” Reaching out, she touched his hand, one fingertip brushing over his claws. “I’m only an empath. Not a hero, not anything special.” Reaching into him, she went ahead and blocked the pain of thawing out. Drawing her hand back, she opened it up, looking at her own palm. “It’s … there isn’t anything else to me, except trying to help people. And most people don’t really … want to be helped. It makes them feel weak.”