Seeing that Bodhi is unlikely to take the coat from his hands, he instead lays it on the ground between them - inched a bit closer towards Bodhi than himself. Takes a few steps back, allowing the man the room he seems to require in order to function, though it's obvious even to a stranger than the man's barely doing so. And, instead of letting his gaze linger too long on the twitching, nervous man, he lets his eyes wander to their surroundings - staying aware of what might be lurking in and behind the thick curtain of the fog. He's yet to see threats - at least like the ones he's used to - but he knows not to be complacent.

He'd been too trusting in King's Landing, put too much faith in the hearts of men not knowing they'd been already turned black, already corrupted. The Game doesn't seem to be played here - no Royal Family, no crown to speak of, no throne, but it doesn't mean there is no danger to be found. It may have simply taken another form, one he might not be expecting.

"NiJedha," Ned repeats quietly, feeling the sound out on his tongue as he slowly brings his attention back to Bodhi. "I've never heard of it before." He considers the man, hair now blanketing his face, then asks, "Do you have any friends here, Bodhi? Someone to come help you?"