She was just starting to gain her night vision, able to catch a few dim details in the darkness, when a burst of light made her wince and turn away. Instinctively, she crouched slightly, expecting the light to signal attack of some kind, but nothing happened. Blinking rapidly, she peered toward the light, then hesitated at what she saw.<br/><br/>The knight was there, obviously just rising from a sprawled position on the ground. He looked dazed, slightly confused, and furious. Her first instinct was to get after him for what she easily could see meant he'd let the thief escape. She saw the ropes on the ground, still tied around the tree. Shapeshifter. Of course. How could she have forgotten? Frowning, she looked back to the knight, attention caught by his movements.<br/><br/>How strange. The pompous, sure of himself, know-it-all knight of the night before was gone. Instead, here sat a defeated, ashamed, and infuriated man. It made him more human. Everyone made mistakes. She'd made far worse ones in her time. He looked like a kicked puppy. She couldn't resist the mothering instinct that rose in her. She tried, but couldn't refrain from stepping closer to try and raise his spirits.<br/><br/>She knew his type well enough to know he would only be infuriated by empathy. Every man loved to be cared for and soothed, but in this situation, he wouldn't allow it. So she settled for what he knew best. Instruction. Thinking through the best way to say it in her mind, she walked forward and crouched down, sitting on her heels to meet his gaze. He was still staring at the ground, but she looked at his face, waiting for him to look up.<br/><br/>She wouldn't speak first, but instead, would wait for him to look at her, or say something. Allowing him to signal to her that he was done berating himself enough to hear what she had to say.