[He watches her pass him a second longer than necessary, then picks a steady pace up behind her rather than trying to overtake her for the lead, back out into the badlands and away from the town proper. Watching her back like he's not sure if he wants to be vindicated or surprised or suspect of the way she follows up her talk of fitting in with choosing to join him in the noble pursuit of tracking down bandits to shake down for information. (Despite being the one to reach out to her about the arson in the first place. She's hard to get a handle on—he knows just enough about her to respect her and just enough to be wary of her. He likes her just as much as he chafes twice-shy and teeth bared against the ways in which she is trying to reach out.)]
Gosh, Nat, I didn't know you cared.
[He knows bullshit when he hears it, but they're too soon off the heels of a touchy topic for him to recover the quick quippy cadence she would earn on a good day. The sarcasm, however, is back. It cuts a little too harsh on the edges even as he rises to the bait and beats the mocking back at her.]
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Gosh, Nat, I didn't know you cared.
[He knows bullshit when he hears it, but they're too soon off the heels of a touchy topic for him to recover the quick quippy cadence she would earn on a good day. The sarcasm, however, is back. It cuts a little too harsh on the edges even as he rises to the bait and beats the mocking back at her.]