Narratives were important to them, or so she'd been told.<br/><br/>It was one thing that, between considering the basis of their bickering, she had been reminded of. Something about storytelling playing a roll in revealing their identities to them through tales of their cultural.  A form of oral storytelling, perhaps? A bit more advanced than gathering elders around a fire, but the premise was still the same.<br/><br/><br/>She'd been observing them for hours, watching the small humans reenact the same set of motions again and again through her scope while such sparse questions echoed in her head. Leaning back, she gave a noisy flex of her gloves. New black leather, she had been working the squeak out of them since they'd been given to her. They were warmer, she conceded, but she preferred her old broken in set the best. Having been told once it was rude to refuse a gift, she'd found herself impractically bringing them along. A minor annoyance, but an annoyance none the less.<br/><br/>As a tendril of fogged breath snaked past parted lips, she leaned back and looked content enough reclined against one waterlogged tree. Even if a ship scouting the shore went past and somehow managed to spy here there despite the all-black nature of her attire, there wouldn't be much of a question than perhaps 'some strange lady is sitting by herself out there. People are such weirdos these days.'<br/><br/>Despite all internal devices and genetic testing point to the contrary, Issa was at least physically passably human. Enough at least for quick meetings and cleverly guided interrogations. Though the buck stopped there, unfortunately. Given enough time, even a flickering candlelight's worth of observation shone right through it and brought light to the workings within. It wasn't as if Issa's skills in espionage were lacking. No. She'd been more than a dutiful student (and even better, some had said, since she had very little emotional basis to counteract instructions), but there was something that just wasn't...there.<br/><br/>With eyes and an expression like still waters that you knew to be deep, there came even to the most inept of empaths the sensation that Issa was best avoided. Even those who had tried desperately hard to like her found there will hadn't stood the test in the wake of her silence and stillness. Best in small doses was the advice that those had to work with her gave to new hires.<br/><br/>Another set of squeaks, and she brought her gaze back across the bay. While the single mounted scope worked to focus back in, she eyed the hour in the lower right hand corner. She had no qualms with waiting. On the contrary, there was something almost natural about holding the rendezvous point across the Shallowbag Bay. One might venture, borrowing on their own terms and in no way hers, that Issa might have enjoyed it. It was familiar, yes. Perhaps that's what it was. It allowed her to settle in and, as a productive way to spend her time, watch the little production going on across the way. She rarely had an opportunity to study them so openly. Normal people, that was.<br/><br/>To say she favored people-watching was to imply that she had some sort of preference. Issa was, at best, equal parts indifferent and obedient. All of the agent's actions had been directed under the strictest sense of duty and her current observation was no less meaningful. There was to be a mission here and, despite her finding the unfamiliar sensation of lagging under the time and tide of another team, she carried out her observation just as meticulously as if the mission had been all her own. Beneath the thick lined sleeves of her right arm, she felt a familiar writhing under her skin.<br/><br/>"Templar," came the word that tumbled past her lips without thought to it. It was unfamiliar and heavy. She'd read only what had been provided in the file to her. Their short summary had been illustrative enough- they were a successful unit. She could only think that more operatives meant more hands, a quicker resolution. Effectiveness. Yes. That she had a particular approval of and yet...<br/><br/>Issa had always been unaccompanied on her assignments, and they'd always been resolved quick and efficiently. She knew for a fact that she was 87% more cost effective to the organization and at least two times less likely than another agent to return with injuries. She would have thought, based on nothing but pure and simple logic, that it would have been seen a waste to double up on agents like this.<br/><br/>There was a further set of writhing, and Issa gave a soft huff and a click between her teeth to silence it.<br/><br/>Again to imply that she either liked or disliked something was hinting at some greater emotional motivation, but the very idea of having been tasked to work with another team member, but an entire unit? Well, that...she was curious of at the very least.