Maleki did not seem to be paying all that much attention to Aleksandra. However, his body language, however subtle, gave away that he was at least hearing her out now: the subtle cock of his head, how his cooking slowed whenever she spoke, and the reduction in the overall racket he was making in general. The hag may catch on to it, but if she was in a sour mood, then Maleki doubted that she would be able to notice it right at this moment. Tommen certainly wouldn’t, especially if Maleki put some half fried, half jerkied pig belly in his face. So an illusion would be kept, though Maleki was making no effort to keep it up himself. Simply the way he was acting had changed to a degree the new travelling companions would have a harder time noticing it if they did not know beforehand. A simple nod was the response that Aleksandra had gotten to start, though Maleki did not wait for her to turn for him to pick up the coin purse.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff"> “Good, if she comes she can have an accident. If not, then she isn’t our problem,” </span>Maleki said, a bit too casually for the subject of conversation.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“The Flats ain’t for any people except the tribals, though,” </span>Maleki continued with, changing the subject away from his morbid desire for the old lady.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“We’ll have troubles just about every day. Horses won’t make a round trip if I have any say unless we take a week on the other side.” </span>The sizzling of bacon and pig stomach on rocks and elevated by sticks popped Maleki, forcing his attention back onto the food, adjusting and removing from heat what he thought was ready.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“If we get attacked, especially by a pack, we aren’t running. Just a slow retreat to somewhere where its hard to get surrounded.”</span>After that, Maleki was quiet, drifting off into a contemplative thought while his body moved to ensure food did not burn. Once all the food he had prepared was out of the danger area for the fire, Maleki finally spoke up, eyes glancing to his own tent rather than the one Storka inhabited.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“I would say that it’s a good way to see how stuck with her we are,”</span>Maleki said quietly, just as Tommen finally stepped out of the tent he shared with Maleki.<br/><br/>Once breakfast was devoured, the camp was torn down, some of it faster than others. Maleki’s methodology was always efficient, and the camp tear down showed it well. The shallow pit that had been made for the fire was simply filled in, almost completely masking the former presence of a fire. The horses were used to help bring down tents, so that the tents could be neatly rolled up and tied down with the same rope used to pull them down. By the time all was done, Maleki was atop his horse, making a sweep of the area around their former camp more out of habit than actual precaution. When his itch for fulfilling that habit was satisfied, Maleki returned to the vague skeleton of a camp.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“Tom, if you’re riding with me into the Flats, I want you more focused on the surroundings than where you are going,” </span>Maleki said, taking control of the situation moreso than he had before. Either he felt stronger about this situation than he let on, or the Flats scared him that much.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#4da6ff">“The horse will stay with us if it is worth two shits. Allie, we aren’t stopping until it’s dusk and we found a place, so if anything happens, hope you can do horseback triage. Old crone, fuck off or keep quiet.” </span>With his little speech done, Maleki turned and started to head out, regardless of if they were ready on their horses or not. His pace was already set a bit higher than a comfortable gallop.