He does it slowly, tentatively, so he won't startle her and she can indicate if it's unwelcome--that's the sense she'll get first, the impression of psychic request. If and only if he feels consent, he'll wrap her in the protective warmth of a young god only half aware of its own power, a firm metaphysical hug, a shield.

"No one here will treat you that way, and if they try I'll--" He stops himself. Death threats are not a thing he does any more. "I'll scare the fucking shit out of them and throw them into the nets."