"I don't believe he keeps a book of debts," Onni says with a smile in return to Knox's firm denial of her aid. She will not force it upon him, but the worry does not erase from her face as he assures her that he is alright, or... will be. Maybe it is the stare she receives from the companion at his side that makes her continue to worry, or maybe her heart is grasping out to easily for another yet again. The painted mare was so willing to let others stay within her heart, resting easily in the warmth of her spirit. However, Onni has yet to realize that this approach is often seen as foolish and for good reason. Yet, for now, the innocence of the healer's soul is preserved, and her light eyes look at him openly. A child, yet unmistakenably grown.

A confused child, next, as Knox speaks once more. Her ear tilts back in question as he responds, but she doesn't realize to what at first. He turns quickly, eyes lashing in the light of the fire, but the mare does not retreat though something in her mind tells her to. The more unstable he becomes the more apparent it is to the shaman, yet the is something in his eyes that makes her stay his ground. What is it? The look of a heart reaching out through a fever? Would she feel guilty leaving him here when she knows he is ill? Truth be told, she is weary. Her heart had already been wrung heavily today, her spirit trounced upon. There was little that she should care about right now, but somehow, Knox becomes one of those things.

Onni, he is dangerous. This thought never crosses her mind. Instead, she is somewhat delighted despite being confused that her words had been taken well. It is not until after she smiles easily that she realizes what else she had said. He is kind, and he is glad you feel that way are statements born of the same thought, but not his - not Knox's. Her brow furrows more, but Onni knows that Roanne the Sentinel was a shapeshifter. She looks at the dog, black, much like all of the Sentinel's forms she had seen, but this is a female. Her lips tug down in a thougtful frown. His face seems open, as though he wants to share something, but then he rapidly turns away. Dangerous. Why does she not notice?

Even as his face warps into something unfamiliar, she is bustling about in her own head, blissfully unaware of the shift. It is not until his posture seems to mimic something close to fear that she glances up, her brows furrowed in worry once more. She comes to step beside him, standing with a good space between them. Onni, being more reserved, would not take it upon herself to be overly familiar when it comes to touch or physical closeness. "I don't understand, Knox," she says plainly, her voice calm but quiet. "You are not your father, yet you claim to know his thoughts."

A smile on her face as she draws up another lightening phrase, for the mood was turning sour rapidly and she wished that it hadn't. "Roanne hardly seemed to be as transparent as my own mother, so surely you cannot just assume his thoughts." She pauses again before turning to look at him directly, trying to inspire confidence in her with a bright look in her eyes. "Is he near? I know that he has many forms."
""