With the safety of at least 6 members of the Defiant's crew still alive (
stolen adopted daughter thankfully in that count) and the souls of the dead flitting in her wake somewhere behind her, the pair had fallen into a quiet march. Finding help was now a top priority. They had supplies but it wouldn't be enough to address a crushed leg, nor hungry bellies.
Silence oft invited unwanted meditation, as the Orlan was very familiar with.
It had been hard, saying all those goodbyes to everyone, Kana, Sagani,
not you Durance, Aloth, Maneha and even the Devil, but at least she had Edér, the Steward and Vela around. Even if the former was a day's travel away most of the time, he'd at least been around. She'd never really had a family, a real one anyway, she'd been given away by her parents to an Aedyran noble at a young age then raised as their daughter, though more often than not, she'd been paraded around like one might with a fancy poodle.
Then, she'd met a Wild Orlan, this one a slave and cracked.