[Even if she's used to Hawke's typical approach to problems, knows that hearing her laugh isn't so odd -- in this context, it's a little unnerving. And she is so, so utterly ill-equipped to deal with this because what are feelings ever; it'll take Isabela even longer to realize it isn't laughter, but when she does, well--]
[But she's reaching up to her, touching her wrists gently, not quite tentative but slow enough that Hawke would be made aware of the touch, in hopes it doesn't take her by surprise, in hopes she wouldn't just jerk back]
Hawke. [It's -- it's okay? Maybe??? She doesn't know. There's so much she knows that Hawke isn't telling her, after all, and that this is likely just going back into all of that -- this, after all, is very, very unlike what she's used to. Maybe the closest she's seen was after Hawke's mother--]
[Well.]
[She isn't one for hugs - physical contact, sure, always fun, but hugging has always felt too intimate for her, too vulnerable. But the urge is there, to try to comfort her somehow... Instead, she just leans in closer, keeps her hands on her gently]