She takes it gladly, exhausted beyond a simple of measure that she felt tired. There would never be enough sleep for the sort of memories this dredged up from her. But at least, she could breathe, again. At least she could walk herself slowly through this, little by little.

"I would like that." Gilia is polite, even so, her hand gentle on his arm, as she shuffles her steps.

But the feeling of observation smothers her, but no longer did she know how to cower away from it. Instead, she pulled her shoulders upright. The pride of her people, even now, she must not faulter. So she attempts to lift her head, straighten her shoulders, even as she keeps a hold of him to not stumble.