NOT ONLY WAS ROBBIE SURPRISED that she was willing to touch him in his sweat-drenched state, but seeing Ahri do so with such vulnerability stopped him dead in his tracks, more so, even, than her tugging. When he came to a halt, he turned to face her, and listened to her soft, troubled words with a small frown of his own, one of concentration, of focus, of commitment.
"Nah, kid," an affectionate term, not one meant to patronise or demean, but to comfort and reassure. Leaning down, he placed a large, paw-like hand on her shoulder, his other hand rising to point a finger at her; again, not intended to belittle her, but to drive home a point. "If someone 'urts ya, you don' stop kickin' 'til the twitchin' stops," he said quite seriously, gaze unwavering as it met her own, his expression entirely still. "Every woman needs t'know 'ow to defend 'erself, and if someone-- anyone is stupid enough to fuck with ya, you've gotta make 'em regret it."
It would always be preferable, in his mind, to be the ever-present defender of women, to always be around so they needn't fear anything, but that was far from reality. Women and children remained the world's perpetual victims, forever the ones who suffered at the hands of men, and it was for that reason Robbie taught them to defend themselves. They might not have the size and stature to win every fight, but making an attacker regret acting against them was better than nothing.
"It's always best t'avoid a fight because y'not gonna always win, but if someone forces y'hand? You bet your ass I wanna see ya bitin' back."