Tristain held his hand against Aynur’s wrist - pressing gently on the wound through the bandages, stemming some of the flow of blood with pressure. Beneath his fingers, the bandaged were becoming stained a ruddy red- the knowledge of what lay beneath stirring dark memories inside of him. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.

This waif, lost and abandoned, blind, it was easy to see why she had sunk into that dark despair and decided to try ending things. The death held a glamour of a kind, to someone who was trapped in a terrible life, he well knew it. The mercenary would - stay, for a time, help her get back on her feet before moving on. He couldn't afford to stay and get attached, not here, and he didn't know if she would want to come on travels with him.

As she sang, softly, a tune in words he did not recognize, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly, still gently holding her wrist. The song washed over him, and he felt tension long carried ease from his shoulders - despite the fact that the situation he was in was one where he would normally be feeling more tense then ever. Still, with the calm that came with it came the decision to make the offer.

He suited action to thought, and spoke up. “I do not have much in the way of security to offer you, Aynur. I am a mercenary, not a knight, I have no land, no title to myself, nothing of that sort. I have skills etched into my body by the man who pulled me out of my own dark place, he gave me a new life and taught me how to live. I - can stay for a time, and help you here, but eventually I will need to move on, and I do not know if you would wish to accompany me. That is your own decision. But for the immediate future, at the least, you have my hand.” He stood up, and lifted her up again, cradling her against his chest for a moment. While not the stick thin figure he originally thought she was, she was still far lighter than she should have been, and he had no trouble lifting her up.

Slow, steady steps, with care taken not to jostle her, and he set her down on the bed. His dark eyes scanned the room, looking for the pile of clothes he had dropped when he returned - when he saw them, he picked them up and placed them on the bed beside her, then guided one of her hands onto it. They were simple clothes, white cotton shirt, black pants, and an emerald crushed velvet cape. While her hand rested on them, he spoke again.

“You can get dressed. I will go get you some food.” He was already thinking about what to get. Red meats, to help rebuild what was lost to the tub. The tub. He would need to clean that out, to make sure the staff remained unaware of what happened here. The girl was already dealing with being ostracized for her blindness, she didn't need them having other reasons to look askance at her. If they tried, he would probably end up legitimately breaking down this building.

But that wasn't a concern, for now. For now, he'd give the girl a little privacy unless she stopped him, and get her some food. He started to stand up slowly, to give her time to speak up before he left the room.