[ oh, ness's eyes fall to his hands, he's kind. what a terrible moment to choose to be kind. ]

I can go on my own, [ though the weakness of the reply must just reinforce his idea that she's some normal sort of freaking out. the right thing to do would probably be to get rid of him by whatever means necessary—to scream and hurl insults and get nasty, if need be, if only to make sure he's out of the way of the inevitable. the mere thought of it though—deliberate unpleasantness, malicious behaviour—it sets ness' stomach squirming to rival the other thing, and she's helpless to stop herself walking meekly along, as far from her companion as he'll let her be. her steps, at least, are steady, if halting—she's not liable to trip or fall, but there's some effort to the way she moves, a rigidness to her spine and tension in her limbs that makes her gait strange.

she hasn't dropped her fist from her chest. ]

I'll be alright. You don't have to spend time on me, really.