Her eyes widen in earnest the longer he speaks. Her familiarity with the Bible is distant at best, though Gabriel rings as something she should perhaps know. She doubts, however, that her knowledge of him had anything to do with candy or animals or men who show up in dreams with rabbits.

She looks obliquely at him, returning to the rail to brace her elbows on it and cautiously grant him some measure of physical and verbal distance.

"You are helping me," she points out softly, looking out over the water, the too-gentle breeze pulling at her hair. "You do not have a reason to. I think, maybe, that you - "

She can remember Raleigh's crippling lack of self-worth, his fierce and reckless devotion to charge into everything with his brother's memories rushing through his head, digging into her like a fragment of dislodged bone.

How can she pass judgment when she has not known this man's head like she has Raleigh's?

She has to take a breath before she can continue, " - you are more deserving than you think you are."