Anger, no. He does not feel anger at her pause, nor her words that follow. What creeps into his thoughts is more akin to horror; a frightful, sorrowful realization that, in her race, it was possible to dislike another of her own kind so much as for the dislike to turn into this thing called hate, and for that hate to in turn give birth to violence.

"Oh, little one... What reason could there be to dislike one another so, for one of a spoken race to seek to harm another?"