That eye-contact lasts for a mere moment, but it locks into her mind. It isn't in her to care to read much into people; they're either of good use to her or they're not, for the most part. But this is a situation different from what she's grown accustomed to during her life before The Storm. This girl needs help, and her safety has become Jane's business. If she doesn't help her, she may become a problem.

"I'll help you," she says with a firmness.

She sighs through her nose and gives it a go, her voice now a little softened as she cautiously approaches her, "tell me your name--" She closes her eyes and swallows the sudden tension in her throat. The last time she told the girl to do something proved not to go smoothly, to say the least. "--please," she adds with a roughness. A splash of a jagged tone that stems from the challenge she faces to hold her patience with this uncooperative panic attack of a person.

"I'm gonna help you with that pain. But I need to know your name." She figures it a good idea to direct her mind elsewhere, if only for a second. Jane's seen she's already capable of that.