An ear and golden eye tilt towards his rather rude remark to her attempts to be helpful, a roll slipping into her features as she returns her gaze to the path ahead, not really trying so hard to wear her mask around Mauja; he knew who she was, perhaps better than most she knew now, and there was little point pretending to be polite with him when he knew good and well she was not the sort to give a damn.

"It’s usually more your style to run away once any real work becomes involved," she retorts waspishly, "your women, your friends, your home…" Her words trail into silence and are replaced with a smug smile, though she doesn’t look over to him for any response (possibly because she knows there won’t be any unless he obliges her with words again). Maybe she should not be so cruel, but at the end of the day, it was not her daughter she was seeking to help, at least not directly; if he wanted to take off because she was being her usual tart little self then it would be his conscience that would ache with the weight, not hers.

Either way it becomes instantly evident that the girl is dead weight already, even if she’s not actually dead. Grunting with every uneven step on the walk, her child contests ruefully within her and she begins to regret it all about fifteen minutes in, especially with all of Mauja’s muttering at Sielu. Its not that she doesn’t see the purpose – its possible that the girl is speaking to Mauja in her silent way and he seeks only the reassurance that she is conscious, but every so often she writhes or makes a face of such pain that the Lady feels her own bones throb.

At least the man had consented to come with her, though his ear had flipped backwards at the mention of those two names together and the woman had replied with only a knowing smile that mocked and sang, “I know something you don’t know!”

So they were here, trudging along with a limp body between the two of them and each one bristling with their own dislikes of the other; it was odd how children could temporarily heal any grudge or emotional pain when they had a need for protection and salvation. By now, he’s probably noticed that they are headed in the general direction of what used to be known as the Foothills, and she hopes he’s putting things together and realizing that it’s the same place as the Hidden Falls. She doesn’t really care if he manages all that before they get there; half of her wants to see his reaction to Midas living in a forest, anyway, and it will be all the more valid if she doesn’t give away the surprise.

"It’s just ahead," she states, hoping that at least now Mauja can tell where they’ve come, and with a lightening of her heart they find the trees thinner and the ground more rolling, the changes that have taken the Earth’s land not as obvious from this direction.

Pausing just where the smells start to become strongest from patrols, she smiles over towards the Frostheart before returning her eyes into the home of Midas and Seele, their mad children and the river chasers. "Czar Midas!" she calls, "there is a little one here who would greatly appreciate the aid of your people!"