She follows without protest or hesitation. She knows very little of the town, her exploration always falling to the same areas - the northern outskirts. Her desire to leave this place has weakened since finding Cassian - but her need to understand the whys, the hows has blossomed from fading embers to raging fire - and for some reason, her mind tells her the northern edge is where to find those answers. She's so far been unsuccessful, perhaps unsurprisingly, and so she's never known of the spring of which Kira speaks. Has never given herself a chance for respite amidst all the work, real or otherwise, that she feels needs to be done.

Her feet drag heavily as she walks - not out of conscious decision, but out of exhaustion. The sharp sting of her blisters against his hand feel dull, as though far and felt by someone else, someone else's hand that Kira is holding, tugging. But she follows, allows herself to be guided. A quiet, simple declaration of something like trust for Kira.

"For a few minutes," she echoes, voice small and distracted, "Then I'll keep digging."