Oh. Well that's just not good. She looks like she needs a hug, or at least a grooming, but with the way she flinches from touch and Ferroc's own inexperience when it comes to most sorts of physical comforting it just might be impossible. Help? He doesn't even begin to imagine how to handle human breakdowns.

He's still going to try, of course. And maybe he'd be more suspicious of the whole thing, but in his mind, Mordecai is a decent guy. Surely he's not just talking for her out of some nefarious reason like maybe causing this situation to begin with.

"You don't need to apologize for that," he reassures the girl, trying to connect her words with the situation at hand as his whiskers shift contemplatively. She must have discovered she's dead and wasn't happy about it... no surprise. It was only natural for every sentient being to desire meaning. And it could be such a rare privilege. Most of his friends never got that. Not even their name in the status report, just little slivers of statistics. Iron Legion marksman. Three Pact soldiers. The bodies were burned.

He shakes his head, stepping a little back to give Angel some space, but also holding his arm out slightly, as if encouraging her to take it. It's small, but it's a gesture she has control over, and this may be something she needs.

"Some fresh air is always a good idea. Would it be okay if I keep you company?"