She didn't want to keep him long. Though he was easy to talk to, too easy, she didn't want to bother him with her woes. Her eyes reflected upon that thought, it was written in her expression and in the way she could not look him in the eye much. "What I need is a priest," she said softly at one point, taking his hand and allowing him to help her up. Once she was on her feet, she did not start walking away, she turned toward the surf instead and watched the waves, wishing in that moment they would swallow her up and sweep her away from Whitby and the troubles that she had there. Somehow, though, she didn't think this stranger at her side would allow that to happen.