To a point, being comforted this way is nice. Sometimes it's good, it helps her go to sleep and calm her awful lungs, and Sina appreciates the warm touch like a cool drink of water against a parched mouth. But there's so much... comforting, dancing around subjects, and she has so little time. So little time to say what she really means, to ensure that things are... well, as she wants to leave them.
"Sorrel," she says quietly, after a lull, her fingers gently toying with the lacing of his tunic. "I want you to be happy."