It's only because the Fae are slinking away that Syrlya approaches, because that seems kind of terrible to make someone cry and then just leave them to it. He stops a respectful distance in front of her, leaning over a bit with concern clearly etched on his face.

"Are... is there something wrong?" Well, there's obviously something wrong, but if he's going to coax a reason out of her he's going to do it gently.