[Strangely enough, the gesture grounds her, and her fingers curl around his hand.]

I don't know.

[She doesn't mean for her voice to sound so sharp.

Her? Helping people? Those words don't belong in the same sentence, and she feels that awful skin-crawling sensation again that shoots up and down her spine.]

I don't like the thought of... men like him running around. Or there being others like him out there.

[Others who would use women... or anyone... as a tool.

The furrow in her brow deepens, and though her voice starts to rise, her hand squeezes his as if to let him know that it isn't because of him that it is.]

She could hardly defend herself. And what if others are not so lucky or wealthy enough to hire the protection of the Paladins?