He's oddly relieved to see her, in a way he's never been relieved to see anyone before. That she speaks kindly to him - she's not to blame, she doesn't know who he is - is just a bonus.

He responds to it, oddly enough. As savage as he's proclaimed to be, as devoid of feeling, he tends to lap up a bit of gentleness when it's offered to him, however briefly. A bit seasick - or should that be landsick? - and still wobblier than he'd like, he stumbles over and slumps down beside her, cradling his aching head in his hand.

"Must've been on hell of a trip to get here," he mumbles, more to himself than to her, "wherever here is."