He is trying to be kind, she can tell by his tone of voice, and because he always is. But he's doing so by addressing the matter of her unwisely chosen attire, rather than her monstrous appearance, as though that were the only thing making her scary and hideous right now. He's been showing her all sorts of wonderful sides to human society, how diverse and strange and imaginative they are, but she has yet to witness anything as beastly as her walking among all those beautiful humans.

"You are not afraid of anything," she counters softly, recalling that he hadn't left her even when she told him of her brother's pursuit. "And you are very kind. Alas, I find it hard to believe that others, as lovely as they may be, would be as brave and understanding in the face of... well, my face." Her grim prodding gradually turns into one messy spiral, groove deepening with each comforting repeat.