Talitha had been clear with her demands of the small woman who helped to raise her children -- watch Ezekiel when she could not. Sa'adat's discomfort with the concept of spying, watching, shadowing the Aquila that she knew so little about was evident, but she didn't complain. She couldn't. She'd felt the sting of Talitha's hand, the bite of her words, her insults. It was easier to pacify the princess. Enkiel offered an escape, but even Enkiel couldn't save her from the fate offered -- if she disobeyed Talitha, she feared the results, but what if Ezekiel learned of his sister's demands? Would she suffer for the paranoia and worry of the russet Centurion?
She'd put her things away for the day, her weaving and other such handcrafted things, and prepared herself to seek out the golden leader, but he came to her instead, demands and explanations unfamiliar to the jackayote who simply accepted them as another part of her duty. They were taking a trip, going somewhere to do something that she wasn't entirely sure of. The purpose was unimportant -- what mattered was that Ezekiel wanted her to go. Alongside the unfamiliar, dark hybrid with the same starred mark as the de le Poer princess and another male, she set out to unknown lands, faintly recalling passing over them at one point in her delirium, though she had hailed toward the sea and they were heading south.
Her silence was not a strange thing. In the presence of the men, there was no need to talk; it was rude, it was audacious. They weren't Enkiel, who could speak with her in their shared Mother Tongue, who understood somewhat her soft-spoken ways and seemed to enjoy her company enough to allow her to pester him. Her silence became a barrier to protect her from them, the strangers, as she followed them to some end that she had no choice of.
They paused before the borders, she could smell the wolves that lingered there in the distance, and he turned to face them but focused on the red-eyed creature. His order was...strange, but Sa'adat quickly moved away from the rest to scope out who might be in the vicinity. She was incapable of much else, too small to be a warrior and too fragile to fight -- she couldn't best a woman, let alone a man that her culture, her raising, dictated she fall to -- but she would do her best to see what it was that might hinder their task.
Nothing. Satisfied, albeit anxious, she found her way back to the Aquila and bowed her head, bringing no news and finding no reason to say the words that acknowledged it -- she could only hope he would understand her, rather than force her voice.
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