Coulson had re-holstered his gun, and was frowning slightly. He'd been surprised; anger at the carelessness of his colleagues, that was reasonable. The anger he'd just felt had been anything but reasonable, and it was aimed squarely at the man tormenting Nienor.
"We can heat it back up." He reached out both hands, placing them gently on her upper arms, hoping it was comforting instead of otherwise. "I'm sorry."