He didn't think, simply stepped forward into her, arms wrapping securely around her crumpling frame, one about her back, the other beneath her knees as she hoisted her up into his grip.
"Easy now, gyal. Ah gotchu."
And then stood there, for a couple of breaths, unsure what exactly he was doing. The small voice drew him back from the blank, little hooves tapping a rhythm on the dirt of the alley in consternation.
"Are you going to keep her? You can't call her Constantin though, it's too confusing."
Kale blinked down at his daughter, pooching air between his lips, eyes rolling heavenward as if asking for guidance. When he spoke, his voice was a level calm, but it set hairs prickling on the back of the child's neck. She didn't know the word 'grave' but his face said enough of it, jerking his head at the door.
"Ah t'ink it's best if we go inside. Up di stairs, Princess, an' don' be lettin' anyone in di rooms. Got dat?"
She grabbed the mug and headed in, holding the door wide for him as he ducked through, careful not to bash the stranger's head on the jamb.
Wasn't every day you got someone asking for help, but enough had come through here doing just that, so what was one more? Seemed like she was running from something, and it would have been...wrong, to just leave her there on the street. He didn't have some weird kind of gaese that said he had to help anyone that asked, could have left her there to protect his own interests but...well, being morally grey didn't mean he didn't have a conscience.
He thumped his way up the stairs after the scampering girl, nudged through the door to their room and set the woman down on the bed, Meridia bouncing up beside her and then sitting by her head, almost nose to nose.
There wasn't much to be said for 'remarkably outstanding' about the room. A bed that would have been snug with two in it, a small wash stand and chipped jug, threadbare rug currently littered with sheets of paper and several pieces of charcoal, one of them crumbled as if stepped on. A small window with a hard seat beneath it, filled with soft cushions, and an old richly carved wardrobe depicting flowers and birds. Plain, but for the wardrobe and the handful of things like the cushions and the blanket that suggested someone had tried to give it that 'homey' touch, but not quite succeeded.
"Is she sleeping?"
"Well she ent dead."
Meridia looked up at Kale, her childish features arranged in a look of seriousness as she said; "We should hide her. The wardrobe!"
"Ahm nuh stuffin' a stranger in dere! She's nuh a corpse!"
"But if it does go to Timbuctu-"
"It don't. Sides, ah tink it be better if she 'as a friendly face ta wake up ta..." he leaned over her, catching her chin between forefinger and thumb and turning her face this way and that.